Operation: Forced Vacation
by Cloud Green
Summary: Kurt and Blaine: the hottest adult film stars the gay community want to see reunite on screen. There's just one problem: they cannot stand each other. Movie sets become battle grounds when they meet, and its getting out of control. It takes a bold move from a well-meaning director to finally force these two stars together: total isolation in a Californian villa. Full plot inside.
1. Behind the Camera

A.N. Hello! Back with yet another _'Why did you even begin to write this?'_ fic that I'm hoping grows on you enough for you to enjoy somewhat. As I am primarily a Dark!Blaine writer, it is a step in an odd direction, though Blaine really is a jerk. I find it hard to write him any differently. For anyone who is disappointed that this is less of a dark story, you'll be pleased to know I have been writing more sinister fics but I'm just not entirely happy with them to post yet. Hopefully soon. However, I am glad to have a chance to write a lighter side of dark - one might even say comical! - with a Kurt who is more than a match for Blaine most of the time. I'm hoping to have it completed in around 7 chapters, first 3 already written, but I will make no promises. I tend to break promises when it comes to Fan Fiction...

Here is a fuller summery:

Jude Asher and Dorian are the pride of Darcy's Secret - a gay porn film studio - and are on their way worldwide success. Or, at least they would be if Kurt and Blaine, the men behind the stage names, could stand to be in the same room as each other, never mind perform together as their adoring public demands. Their director has no choice but to order a period of joint isolation in a peaceful setting for them to get over their differences and find a way to work together. A good idea with disastrous consequences, however. Prepare for bullying, nakedness, secrets, and one actor's past threatening to destroy his career if he doesn't do as he's told.

Genre is mostly light-hearted, built on humor and reluctant romance, with some concerning drama in final chapters when dark!Sebastian has a brief appearance. Nothing my past readers would even blink at.

Warning (Less than usual but I'll list anyway): Profanity, descriptive sexual scenes (oddly enough, only two that are 'adult film' related, the others are normal for my Klaine fics), violence/sexual violence later in a flashback scene, mature themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything yada-yada, characters and Glee world belong to the series creators and distributors and I'm sure they care not that I use their characters in my own twisted plots. I hope.

Please enjoy!

* * *

 **Behind the Camera**

* * *

Blue eyes stretched wide to gaze upwards into pools of swirling hazel. A small gasp escaped from rosy lips kissed dark and pouting. Hands gripped tight and a thrust forward elicited a shameful moan from the slighter of the two young men.

Kurt let his head fall back and his lids close over briefly, an expression of pure pleasure, before forcing himself forward again to meet those eyes once more. _Eye contact, Kurt, remember..._ The air was hot and steamy. Their bodies were shiny from freshly-formed sweat, but the scent of honeysuckle was overpowering. Kurt let the sweetness overwhelm his senses. The other male holding him fast was watching his face with a twinkle in his gaze. A tug inside of Kurt's gut was difficult to ignore but he managed it as he wrapped his long legs around the other's waist and met the next thrust with vigour. 'Ah – _yes!_ More, please-!'

The twenty-two-year-old dipped his head into the crook of Kurt's neck in a show of passion, though Kurt knew it was to hide the smirk that had formed at hearing the pleas. Deliberately, Kurt dragged his fingers from the mess of black hair they were currently embedded in to dig his nails hard into the other's neck in response. To his satisfaction, he heard the man whisper a harsh curse into his ear. As if to punish him, the dick that was in the middle of pulling out of Kurt's ass slammed back inside in a violent flash. Kurt let out a real gasp this time as pain caught him off-guard. In his surprise, he let go of the other man's body and his partner jerked backwards a few inches. _Back to normal, Kurt, get back on the well-hung horse before-_

 _Smack!_

'Ow!' Both actors cried out as their foreheads knocked together.

'Geez, fucking moron, you almost broke my nose!' Blaine accused with a glare, nursing the reddened spot on his head before shoving Kurt down against the bed.

Kurt flushed, feeling just as furious but also very uncomfortable with the other male still very much inside him. He pushed Blaine off with his sweaty hands and felt the cock slide out and stab his abdomen. 'It was your fault, idiot, what were you thinking – that hurt!' He was, of course, referring to the particularly unfair thrust from moments before. 'You know you can't do that – and don't play the blame game, you head-butted me!'

'Guys – guys _!_ ' Roger, the director of the shoot, tried to intervene but it took several attempts to have himself heard.

'You had your fucking nails in my fucking neck, princess-'

'You were laughing at me-'

'Yeah, 'cause you sounded like a two dollar whore-'

'I'm not even surprised you know what a two dollar whore sounds like-'

' _Guys!'_ Roger shouted out, going red in the face as he glanced around the set. There were too many people currently standing in place, doing their respective jobs, looking awkward at the exchange between the X-rated movie stars. 'Enough! That's it for today – get dressed. We're done.' When the actors started to argue by trying to assign blame, the older man snapped louder. ' _We're done!'_ And he stormed off set.

Glaring naked daggers at one another as they sat up on the bed, the young men reached for their respective clothes that only ten minutes earlier had been torn off in an over-dramatic display of animalistic desire.

* * *

Walking down the corridor towards his dressing room, Kurt Hummel – or rather, Jude Asher as he was better known in the homoerotic world of gay pornography – took confident steps as he passed room after room of couples (or groups) engaged in some type of sexual affair. Cameras were rolling, and lights were both dimmed and multicoloured. Only a couple of years ago, an under-aged Kurt would have buckled at the knees at seeing such scenes, but times had changed. Kurt was in the number one spot, actor-wise, in the very successful company and distributor known as _Darcy's Secret_. As such, Kurt was among the top earners and stake holders. Untouchable except through role-play. Unfortunately, he currently shared that top spot with a lesser deserving counterpart, but the less his mind dwelled on Blaine the better.

 _Blaine Anderson...what an asshole!_ It was hard for Kurt to not think of Blaine once the mental insults started. The slightly older actor was the bane of his existence; a human embodiment of all the things that Kurt hated. Reliance on looks – check. Condescending and belittling attitude towards everyone – check and double check. Utter arrogance and self-entitlement – Blaine won it all. Even his stage name was ugly: Dorian. That's it; just Dorian. No second name. Why would he need a second name? He didn't need more than one to shove in people's faces. Not to mention that he had chosen a name shared with a well-known fictional character who was stunningly beautiful but with an inner evil and arrogance that poisoned his soul. In Kurt's eyes, that was perhaps well suited. Blaine had been the company's bestselling face since the guy had joined at age eighteen. He had enjoyed nearly three years stealing the limelight and trampling over others until Kurt's spiking popularity in their first collaboration. Since then, Blaine had shown nothing but contempt for him. And in a way, Kurt was glad.

A note was pinned on his dressing room door:

 _Come to my office when you're decent._

 _-Roger_

Sighing and rubbing his eyes, Kurt tore down the sign and prepared himself for the rap on the knuckles that was coming his way.

Twenty minutes later, a freshly showered and impeccably dressed Kurt knocked before entering his director's office. He was not surprised to find Blaine there, too, feet up on Roger's desk and looking thoroughly pissed off for being there. 'Ah, Kurt, come take a seat.' Roger motioned him inside. 'Let's talk about today.'

'We don't need to talk,' Blaine cut in, placing his hand on the nearby seat as if to prevent Kurt from sitting down. 'I told you: it was a poor move putting us together. Anyone else – seriously, put me with anyone else and you'll get gold. But with him all you'll get is kids play.'

Swallowing down his fury, Kurt yanked the seat out of his reach and sat down. Blaine rolled his eyes. 'I wasn't the problem today. _He_ ,' Kurt jerked his head over in Blaine's direction, 'was the one who was being unprofessional. He was laughing at me and he almost tore me, moving so fast.'

At this, Blaine gave the smallest of proud smirks. 'It's not my problem your wimp ass can't fit my cock,' He said so quietly that there was a good chance Roger did not hear, causing Kurt to grow even more angry. Before the younger man could snap back, Blaine cleared his throat and addressed their director. 'You were there, Rodge. You heard him. It was so corny. _'Ah, yes, more!'_ ,' Kurt flushed, 'It was cringe worthy.'

Roger put up a hand to silence his actors, a deep frown set on his face. 'Blaine, I had no issues with Kurt's acting and you were immature trying to make fun of his work. Kurt, if you have a problem with something then you wait for the next break cue and then we can address it, you don't try to gain the upper hand. Not in a sex scene where the dynamics have already been agreed upon. This whole revenge scheme you both have going stops _now._ '

Kurt felt like he was back at school getting into trouble for something someone else did. It was a mixture of guilt, embarrassment and need for justice. Nevertheless, he kept his tongue from lashing out. Roger was a nice guy and one of the few Kurt genuinely liked working with, he didn't want to risk losing him as a director when the vast majority of other _Darcy's Secret_ directors were assholes. Blaine, however, went on. 'I've said so many times, we just _don't_ work together.' He waved a casual hand at Kurt. 'Why do you keep trying to force something? Pair me with Sebastian again. That scene would work so well with us!'

Kurt recoiled a bit at the mention of another actor's name, but he thankfully went unnoticed. Roger's lips formed a severe line as he reached down and pulled up a cardboard box with the words _'Fan Mail'_ scrawled along its lid. 'The paying customers don't _want_ to see you and Sebastian together again, Blaine. They have over twenty movies of you two to choose from already. They want Jude Asher and Dorian.' He began plucking letters out of the box and flicking them towards the actors. 'Jude and Dorian.' He flicked another. 'Dorian and Jude.' Another. ''Give us more Dorian fucking Jude's lights out before we lose interest and take our porn money elsewhere' – _that's_ what they'll do if they think we aren't listening.' Kurt blinked. A quick glance over the fan mail confirmed Roger's words, though it still baffled him to know what the viewer wanted. Blaine seemed less surprised. _Asshole probably takes time out of his day to catch up on ego-inflating fan mail so this isn't news to him._ Roger sighed again and shrugged. 'Guys, you know I don't want to force you. I couldn't force you even if I wanted to. But at the start of the year you signed a new contract with a huge pay rise each, and in turn you agreed to commit to every project we felt you were right for. That means finding a way of working with each other. Getting through just _one_ scene and making it as believable as the others. If you can't do that then I can't protect your job when the real bosses come knocking with their palms open for the long-awaited Dorian and Jude Asher flick.'

Kurt felt like he had been slapped in the face. Could he really lose his job over this? He had thought it so unlikely, seeing as he was one of the pillars of this company now. And Blaine? He had been here longer, and his fan base was considerably larger than anyone else's. Would they really cut him off?

'I make those guys too much money for them to terminate my contract.' Blaine said in a low and restrained voice, though Kurt could tell he too was concerned at this new development. 'You know I'm getting offers from other companies. _Wayward_ are literally begging for me to jump ship every single day. I don't want to leave _Darcy's Secret_ but you know I have options.'

Roger nodded. 'I am aware of all of that,' Kurt gulped. _Wayward, as in Wayward Productions? Darcy's Secret's biggest rival is after Blaine, making him offers daily?_ As far as Kurt knew, he wasn't getting any offers yet. Perhaps he wasn't in the strong position he thought he was? 'And believe me,' Roger continued, 'I have so much fun working with you both individually but unless you create something we can distribute I will have no ground to stand on when I try and defend your employment. I'm asking you – _begging_ _you_ – to help me solve this problem.'

That brought on silence. Kurt bit his lip anxiously. Having just purchased his first real home – one that was clean, furnished and something to be proud of at his young age – he could not afford to lose out on his generous salary. Not now, and definitely not on an issue involving Blaine. However, Blaine was not in a similar cramped position – what if he downright refused to be bullied in this way? Would that mean instant dismissal for both of them? Fearful, Kurt glanced over at the man who he loathed on a good day. Blaine was pissed off, that much was obvious. But he then nodded. 'And pray tell, Roger, how do you propose we solve this...problem?' A poorly hidden jerk of a head towards Kurt gave no doubt as to whom Blaine believed the 'problem' to be.

Roger smiled faintly. 'I have one thing we can try. How do you feel about taking a little vacation time?'

* * *

Cutting the engine off, Kurt pressed his hands against the steering wheel and took a deep breath to help ease away his irritation. In front of his car sat the glorious _Casa de Rodge_ – a modern Tuscan luxury villa which had found itself perched within the hideaway hills about two hours from Los Angeles. Rodger had purchased the place for over a million dollars a few years ago to be both his holiday home and part-time porn set. Kurt had seen all five movies which had been filmed on the premise and had been aware of how stunning it was, but had not yet been invited there personally until now.

Kurt readjusted his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose before stepping out of the car. _Two weeks vacation. Here. In the sunny paradise of expensive tranquility. This should be a dream come true. If only_ he _weren't here..._ The 'he' Kurt was referring to was pulling up behind him in a flashy-yet-impractical convertible. Blaine brought his vehicle right up behind Kurt's, causing the younger male to tense up and rush to the trunk as if to stop the cars clashing. He caught the smirk on Blaine's face as he revved the engine forward and stopped a mere half-inch from touching Kurt's unassuming Honda.

'Get your heap of junk away from my car!' Kurt shouted over the loud revving.

Blaine took the key from the ignition – angering Kurt further when he realised Blaine had trapped his car against the property gate – and hopped over his door to stand next to him. 'That 'heap of junk' is worth more than your home, princess,' He retorted, running his hand down the slick red hood.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt turned to storm away through the gates towards the front door. 'A Cadillac-wannabe on its last ounce of oil and life – I'd be surprised if it was worth a hundred dollars.'

Unbeknownst to him, Blaine's smirk vanished and he looked back at his car for a moment before following after Kurt. 'It's a fully-restored 1964 Cadillac Eldorado, kid. Not that you'd understand what that means-'

'I know exactly what that means: over-priced, prone to over-heating, corrosion, non-durable interior, gas-guzzling tank of nostalgic crap.' Kurt shot back over his shoulder, feeling a small sense of achievement at catching a glimpse of fury in those hazel eyes. _That's right, bitch, my dad taught this twink about automobiles._ 'And if it dares even _touch_ my car, I'll skin you alive.'

Before Blaine could issue a reply, the main door to the villa opened and Rodger poked his head out. 'Ah, I thought I could hear arguing.' He smiled, opening the large door further to invite his actors inside. 'Glad you both made it. So, the kitchen is fully stocked, the beds are made, everything is running fine and the weather report promises sunshine, so you guys can relax and-'

'This isn't going to work.' Kurt cut in with a wince. Rodger paused and stared. 'I know we said we'd do it but-'

'We couldn't make it to the front door without him starting something.' Blaine finished, earning an _Excuse me?_ look from Kurt. Blaine ignored him. 'There's no way we'll survive a day up here on our own, never mind two weeks. We'll work harder in the studio, okay? You won't have any more problems with us working together if it means _not_ going through with this.' That was at least something Kurt could agree with, so he nodded.

Rodger sighed and shook his head. 'I've talked it over with the bosses, boys. This retreat isn't for you to become friends, it's for you both to get used to each other and deal with your differences in a healthy way. You need this time away from the hustle and bustle of the job to do that. Besides, it's a paid vacation: you turn it down now and it'll seem like an insult to the company.'

Not liking the sound of that, Kurt bit his lip and looked over to Blaine, who had his hands on his hips and a defeated expression on his face. _Well, I guess that's my fate sealed._ Rodger took their car keys and left to retrieve their luggage, encouraging his actors to explore the house and see what they now had at their disposal. Without a word spoken, Blaine and Kurt left in different directions.

The villa was breath-taking, and Kurt could not find the words to describe the tingling feeling overwhelming his skin as he strolled down the long, marble-lined halls into vast tastefully decorated rooms. At the rear half of the house, it seemed every room had a window overlooking the garden, pool, or cascading countryside which led all the way down the hill to what looked like a village at the bottom. Kurt chose an upstairs corner bedroom with both east and north facing windows. _Waking up to the gentle sunlight every morning sounds like heaven._ He stretched out on the four-poster bed for a few minutes and tried to convince himself that none of the sex films shot in the house had any scenes in this particular room. The last thing he wanted was to have flashes of porn scenes of his _boudoir_ as he tried to fall asleep at night. Kurt then rose up and explored the downstairs, with its new kitchen technology, a central living room that joined onto the back balcony and contained both a giant fireplace and grand piano. As he stole himself out to the balcony to take in the scenery and eye up the pool and hot tub, he realised this may not be so bad. He had been in the house exploring for nearly twenty minutes and he had not run into Blaine once. _Maybe we'll stay out of each other's way and it'll be like we're all alone-_

'That fucking asshole!'

Kurt almost jumped at the sound of Blaine's outburst at the front of the house. He wanted to ignore it, but he knew he shouldn't. He found him standing at the open main door angrily clutching a note in one hand. 'What did I do now?' Kurt frowned and folded his arms as he approached.

Blaine rounded on him and looked ready to take a swipe; Kurt stepped back as casually as he could. 'It's not you for once, princess,' Blaine snarled, slamming the note against Kurt's chest for him to take. Kurt turned his nose up at the action but lifted the paper to read it:

 _Sorry to do this but I knew you wouldn't agree if I had asked – I'm taking your car keys with me._ _̶I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶r̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ I don't trust you to stay together if you have a car. I've left my details by the phone, so you can call or text if there's a problem. I'll be round in a week to check on you and bring in groceries, so just stay put and enjoy yourselves. You'll get your keys back soon enough!_

 _Rodger_

Kurt's hand instantly flew to his jeans pocket where his car keys usually resided before recalling how he had handed them over when his director friend had volunteered to get his things. 'He stole my keys?' he asked, incredulous.

Blaine nodded, turning back to face the driveway which had traces of skid marks from where Rodger had no doubt sped out after dumping their bags by the steps. 'Mine too. That asshole, if he thinks I'm going to let my car seize up from lack of use all because he didn't 'trust' us, he's got a hell storm coming his way.'

As odd as it was to admit, Kurt wasn't as angry. He was sure he'd be able to make sure his car remained in good condition, and he had honestly not planned to leave the premise. He wasn't a rule breaker. Perhaps Blaine was mad because he was one. Without much to do but accept the situation – _and what an ugly situation it was!_ \- Kurt quietly picked up his bags and took them up to his room to leave Blaine to rant to himself.

 _So much for Day One._

* * *

Day Three – things were...going well. Admittedly, Kurt was surprised. It had been a full two days since arriving at the villa and it had been fight-free. Of course, that was much to do with the fact that Kurt and Blaine had miraculously avoided each other to the point Kurt might have wondered if Blaine was still around if not for the missing food and the faraway sound of splashes from the pool. It was little wonder Blaine was as golden-skinned as he was: he practically worshiped the sun. On his trips from the library to the kitchen, Kurt generally saw a fully-naked Blaine stretched out on a sun lounger. His darkening skin was glistening with sweat or pool water, his foot tapping to the sound of the music he constantly had playing as he sunbathed. Kurt enjoyed the sun but his sensitive skin wouldn't allow him to do what Blaine did. Thankfully, Kurt's real passion – reading – was generously met with Rodger's extensive library. There was even a small reading nook in the form of a tiny, cosy room in which Kurt could avoid the outside world. By his third day, Kurt had finished eight books and the ninth was a roller-coaster of a ride! His eyes never leaving the page even for a second, he blindly grabbed his empty water jug and made the now-familiar walk to the kitchen for a refill. The protagonist was in a race against time to reach London's Waterloo Station before the villain made his getaway on the train to the sleepy city of York – Kurt filled the jug with water and then eagerly turned the page – the young street urchin from chapter seven was now running alongside the main character as they realised they were at the wrong platform – Kurt dropped a few ice cubes into the jug yet still his eyes never left the story. Just as the hero spotted the villain stepping up into the steam train, Kurt wondered if there would be time in those final moments to make it to him and bring justice to-

'Wha- _Ah!_ '

Kurt's feet slipped away from him and he flew upwards into the air before crashing down onto the kitchen floor. He let out a yelp of pain at the impact on his rear and gingerly rolled over. The tiles were shiny with liquid. For a moment, Kurt thought he had spilled his drink and then slipped on the mess but he then noticed the trail leading from the patio doors. His ass throbbing and aching, Kurt growled and stood up. He stomped his way out to the poolside.

'Hey!' Kurt shouted.

Lying facing the sun's rays, Blaine barely opened an eye at his sudden arrival. 'Ugh, you're still here?' he muttered, closing his eye again. Kurt kicked the sun lounger, albeit pathetically, and finally managed to receive a little more of the other actor's attention. Blaine let out a frustrated sigh and turned his head towards him. 'What do you want?'

'The floor inside is soaked all because of you because you couldn't be bothered drying yourself,' Kurt seethed, 'And I slipped on it! You're such an inconsiderate asswipe!'

Blaine had scrunched his nose up at the accusation but then broke out into a smile at the mention of Kurt slipping. 'You fell?' His grin grew wider and he began laughing. 'I'm sorry I missed it. Hurt yourself, princess?'

'How does anyone stand to be around you?' Kurt snapped, pacing the length of the lounger, 'You have zero common decency, you are rude, meat-headed and the bane of this entire place!'

'Who missed watching you fall on your ass.' Blaine added with a smile. He then parted his legs a little, reminding Kurt that he was naked, 'And in answer to your question, people like being around me because I have a _lot_ to give.' He winked, laughed again and then shut his eyes to return to his sunbathing.

Feeling more furious than ever before, Kurt balled his hands into tight fists and stormed away back inside. The smirk on Blaine's face grew, smug in his apparent win. However, his smugness was short-lived. His eyes had returned to their closed position by the time Kurt reappeared, armed with his trusty water jug.

Kurt felt a surge of achievement at the high-pitched cry that escaped his enemy's throat when the ice-cold water met his hot skin. He was sure to move the jug above the entire length of Blaine's unsuspecting body, making sure he was drenched. Blaine leapt to his feet and tumbled off the sun lounger. Kurt grinned and ran back inside.

It took him nearly forty minutes to get his mind back into 1940's London with his book as he continuously erupted into fits of laughter just playing the look of frozen horror on Blaine's face when he fell into the bushes.

* * *

A.N. Quite short, I admit, but scenes must be set somehow. Please leave a review and tell me what you think! :)


	2. Overreacting Can Be Boring

A.N. Trying to space out uploads but I'm happy to say writing this fic is coming very easy! I like a good old love/hate dynamic. And I've used a couple of songs for this chapter - Teenage Dream and Dark Side, Blaine's songs for a Blaine talent display - and I personally am not fond of this writing cheat so I plan to only do it when absolutely necessary for bonding purposes. Apologies if you, like me, are not a fan.

Thank you for comments - they cheer up a gloomy day!

* * *

 **Overreacting Can Be Boring**

Evening fell rapidly, and Kurt had to guess where all the time went. His new novel wasn't nearly as gripping as the ones before it, though it could have been due to the onset of jadedness with reading. His eyes were beginning to hurt and his back screamed to be stretched out on a rack after being hunched over a book for so long.

The reading nook he had escaped to was riddled with elongated shadows due to the setting sun's farewell rays filtering through the window at the far end of the room. Kurt felt a sense of defeat as he was forced to bookmark his novel and set it aside. _Is it too early to go to bed?_ Kurt considered the prospect fondly, dreaming of how he could arch his back out of its bent form far better on a mattress. However, going to bed early would mean an early rise, and Blaine had a habit of being indoors in the morning hours.

 _Great, I'm gauging the appropriate bedtime that would help me avoid someone. That's a new low._

Heading towards the kitchen to fix himself some dinner, Kurt paused in the hallway upon hearing music. During the day, Kurt suffered through bouts of insufferable rackets as Blaine blasted a radio from the patio, but this was different. Delicate notes melting into harmonious songs. Kurt knew what he was hearing yet was still surprised to see it in person when he stepped into the living room.

Blaine, now dressed in a pair of slacks and a relaxed-fit shirt, sat in front of the grand piano. He barely glanced at his fingers as they danced along the keys, his bare foot expertly shifted back and forth on the pedal. Beside him, young flames from the recently lit fireplace gave off enough light to make up for the falling sun outside. Blaine's silhouette was almost haunting. Kurt held back by the hallway entrance and listened. He recognised the melody from somewhere, yet despite knowing it was a slowed-down version he could not pinpoint the song. That was until Blaine began singing.

' _Before you met me,_

 _I was alright_

 _But things were kinda heavy_

 _You brought me to life_

 _Now every February_

 _You'll be my Valentine_

 _Valentine.'_

Kurt raised his eyebrows in question: he did not see Blaine as a Katy Perry fan, especially not one who would want and be able to perform an emotional rendition of the typical pop song. Of course, it wasn't as if either of them knew the other very well to be able to have such presumptions. Nevertheless, Kurt felt uncomfortable at discovering this new tidbit; it was as if he had stolen the information from a vault. Perhaps Blaine had thought he had gone to bed, giving him the chance to become Pianist Blaine. As he continued to play, his accidental audience tried to sneak back into the halls. However, even that small movement in Blaine's peripheral vision was enough and the musician suddenly stopped mid-bar.

'Slinking off back into the shadows of the library, are we?' He frowned in apparent irritation, hands dropping from the keys and feet shifting from the pedals. 'Free concert and not a single round of applause?'

Kurt, facing away momentarily, took the chance to cringe and silently curse that arrogant voice which only moments before had sounded fairly _nice_ in song. He then turned back to Blaine and stood confidently, arms folding as he considered his adversary with mild interest. 'Even intellectuals like myself can't be reading all the time,' He countered, 'And I wouldn't say overhearing half a verse qualifies as a free concert.'

The fire crackled, illuminating Blaine's arched brow as he became skeptical. 'Yeah, like you haven't been standing there the _entire_ time.' He rolled his eyes.

Kurt twitched, the accusation of him spying on Blaine any longer than the few seconds he unintentionally had bothering him more than he wanted to admit. 'I've better things to do than take on the role as one of your fanboys.' He responded coolly. Blaine snorted and almost smiled. 'Like eating. I haven't eaten all day, I'm starving.'

Before Blaine could fire some cutting remark about Kurt's no doubt unsatisfactory diet, he left to the kitchen. There was a mini celebration when he discovered Blaine had not touched the chicken or vegetables Kurt had cooked in his mind that morning when plotting dinner. Grabbing a skillet and the bottle of olive oil, Kurt could hear his stomach thanking him for the potatoes, asparagus and chicken combo it would soon enjoy. The pan soon sizzled, and the darkened kitchen window began to cloud from the heat. Without thinking, Kurt began to hum a familiar song. He flipped the chicken onto its other side and tosses in some vegetables. _Heart racing…skin tight jeans…teenage dream tonight._ Kurt froze as two things occurred to him at the very same time. One; he was humming the same song he had just heard Blaine perform frustratingly well. Two; he was being watched. He stopped humming instantly and the hair on the back of his neck stood up with the heaviness of eyes on his head. He pretended not to notice Blaine's presence at the kitchen door but it was hard to do when the man continued to stand there for minutes. Kurt tried not to turn in his direction: to see him would mean he would have to acknowledge him. _Go away!_

But Blaine did not. Kurt continued to cook his dinner and it was only when he was seasoning his almost-completed plate did the other man make a sound.

A heavy sigh, followed by a groan.

Kurt frowned. 'This isn't for you, so don't even think about stealing it.'

'I don't want your Millennium Teen Girl dish, Pinocchio.' Was the reply. The name wasn't new: Blaine had regularly commented on how freakish he thought Kurt to be, with his 'puppet-like' features and his apparent strong resemblance to a German folklore character. Roger had thought it a compliment when he first heard it, and in truth Kurt took it as such regardless, but Blaine had insisted there was nothing sexy about rosy cheeks on a dude.

Kurt cleaned up after himself before picking up his meal. 'So why are you bothering me?'

Blaine groaned again, pouting. 'I'm bored.'

Kurt strode past him to head back to the library. 'Well, you're a big boy; I'm sure you'll be able to amuse yourself.'

To his surprise, he could hear the other male trot after him down the hall. 'There's no cell reception up here!' Blaine continued to complain. 'And I know that that dick is behind it. I _know_ you can get signal up here, but he's done something to stop us from communicating with the outside world. Have you checked the phone lines? They might as well be cut!'

'How interesting…' Kurt murmured as he sat back down in his reading nook, picking up his book to make it seem like he was settling down to read. He was not, as his eyes were beyond tired for reading, but he figured Blaine would leave him alone for fear of somehow becoming infected by some literacy virus.

However, Blaine didn't even notice. 'I'm missing out on so many parties being out here.' Kurt rolled his eyes. _It's not even been two days…_ 'Missing out on all the drama. The drinks.' He sighed. ' _Sex_.'

Kurt shivered and narrowed his eyes, before picking up an armful of books and his meal. 'None of that is my problem.' He said firmly. He left the nook via the door Blaine was currently not lounging against. Kurt knew he was being forced to the solitary haven of his own room if he wanted rid of the present company. Taking the stairs as quickly as he could without looking like he was meaning to, Kurt inwardly bitched about how much more terrible their stay would be if Blaine was going to haunt the indoors both in the morning _and_ evening, like a self-centered ghost. He dumped the books on his bed and carefully climbed onto the mattress with his plate. As he lifted his first forkful to his mouth, he resigned to the fact it would probably be an early night for him after all…all week.

Then his eyes widened. 'Blaine – What? Get out!'

To his dismay, the actor had silently followed after him all the way to his bedroom and was currently rolling his whole body along the length of the back wall. 'I'm too _bored!'_ Blaine whined again. Kurt leapt from the bed and marched towards him, arms outstretched to push him out into the hall. Blaine kept turning and managed to slip away from him, rolling instead to his chest of drawers. As Kurt stood, aggravated, he opened the middle drawer and laughed. 'Oh my god – you colour-coordinate your clothes!' Blaine began pulling out Kurt's darker pants from the right side and the white from the left. 'Do you subcategorise in style too?'

Kurt found himself embarrassed though he told himself he had no reason to be. Yet, he still grabbed his things away and tried to put them back the way they were. 'Leave me and my stuff alone. You messed it all up, too…'

Blaine snorted and lazily sat on the bed, picking up a slice of potato and tossing it into his mouth. 'Why are you so anal about order?'

'There's nothing wrong with having things organised.' Kurt snapped, finally closing the drawer and taking his plate out of his reach. 'Now leave me alone, I'm going to sleep.'

Blaine balked at the idea. 'What? Now? It's not even ten!' Kurt pointed at the door and he rolled his eyes before trudging out. 'I can't believe I'm stranded here in the most boring place with the most boring douchbag ever to trip into a porn set.'

Kurt chose not to react and instead focused on trying to close the door behind Blaine when he left – but as the door almost met the frame, there was resistance. Kurt made a disgusted sound. 'Ugh, _what?'_

Blaine's face appeared through the thin slot of space. 'What are you doing tomorrow?'

Kurt tried to shut the door. 'Reading. Goodnight.'

Again, Blaine pushed back enough so he could see him. 'Bullshit. You've read since we got here, your eyes can't do it anymore. I can tell. We should do something.' It was as if he had forgotten about the insults he had tossed Kurt's way in the last minute – or few years – and it appeared to be a real suggestion.

'Sorry, I'm too busy being painstakingly boring very far away from you.' Kurt retorted, managing to finally close the door in Blaine's face. He held the handle in place in case Blaine tried to enter again, but after a few seconds he heard the other man slip down the staircase banister. _Idiot_.

Kurt finally returned to his bed and ate his dinner in silence.

Blaine had been right, of course: his eyes were tired from devouring so many books the last two days, they needed a rest. Yet, he hadn't quite considered how he was going to fill his time. There was always resting under the shade by the pool, but that was where Blaine would be, so…no. He could tinker on his car or investigate the attic's contents, but that sounded interesting enough for Blaine to want to bother him. There was always good old fashioned TV, but just like a stalking murderer in a horror flick, the noise would soon alert Blaine to his whereabouts and he'd come running like a guard dog, forcing Kurt to watch some reality shit that meatheads like Blaine – _the Dorian_ – Anderson think is good television. Kurt frowned, realising he was trying and failing to piece together a day's contents that didn't allow for his housemate's unwanted presence. He bit his lip and reached for his notebook in his bag.

 _I hadn't wanted to use this so soon, but…_

From the notebook pages, he found the information he had copied down from an internet search of the local area. If he plotted right, he wouldn't need to run into Blaine at all tomorrow.

* * *

Kurt enjoyed his morning in relative peace. His north-east facing bedroom allowed for plenty of sunlight and he let his pajama-clad body be warmed by the rays alone as the noisy man downstairs was forced to wait til noon when the sun would finally reach his tanning spot by the pool. Eyes shut, Kurt smiled at the thought of Blaine pacing the length of the first floor, occasionally coming to check that Kurt was still not 'up' and available to entertain his _bored_ self by listening outside the bedroom door.

 _Sorry, I've no plans to be your entertainer today._

Just before noon, Kurt moved himself to the bathroom and readied himself for the short trek he planned to make once Blaine was safely out in the sun, away from the front door. The opportunity for slipping away finally presented itself around an hour later. He could hear Blaine grudgingly trudge out to drag his lounger across the patio, music starting to play some moments later. It was then Kurt put his backpack over his shoulder and tip-toed downstairs to the kitchen for food supplies and water. The front door made a loud _thunk_ sound but Blaine would never hear it from the other side of the house with music blaring. Grinning at his success, Kurt stretched his slender legs as he strode out through the gate.

* * *

The hills near Roger's villa were different from the barren ones surrounding Hollywood. Out here, the trees were still full and green, plentiful in number. And it was natural. Sometimes Kurt forgot how false the city he called home was. He was originally from Ohio, which was never going to win too many awards for being special, but at least what you saw was what you got: beauty was untouched and sharks were not ducking behind every corner to sell you out to something.

 _I guess I forget how much LA disagrees with me._

Still, being up in these particular Californian hills felt like a welcomed escape. The footpaths had real grass, roots and wild flowers grew higher than Kurt's waist at the way-sides. The further he walked from the roads, the more pleasant the smells became. He followed the directions he wrote down and soon found himself entering a denser forest area.

 _If I die out here, it'll be a whole week before Roger turns up at the house and questions where I am. Blaine won't give a shit. Still. It's better than a week of his company!_

He laughed a little and let his feet lead him up a vague trail which thankfully was as the website described. Before too long, he could hear his goal: water. The first sign was the tickling stream he had to cross as he gradually climbed the forest floor. The stream disappeared from view but the sounds of splashing encouraged him until he finally rounded a bend and felt a whooping sense of achievement.

The waterfall was like something out of a fairy tale. The break of trees allowed the afternoon sun to shine brightly, creating the feel of a private cavern. From his spot, the pool of fresh water appeared emerald green and tropical, but up close it was crystal clear and looked good enough to drink. The ever-cascading whiteness of the waterfall itself issued a small mist which skated across the calm surface. Kurt felt his heart swell with pride and excitement: he had found it! According to _DawnstarSoldier911_ on the forum Kurt had visited, the area was practically unknown and he himself had accidentally discovered it during a walk with his dog. Making a mental note to send the guy thanks once he had access to internet, Kurt rushed to sit on a nearby rock to remove his clothes.

 _Swimming, floating, sunbathing on the banks as my fingers swirl in the water… Today is going to be perfect._

Down to his dark green swimming trunks that had been tucked out of sight in his shorts, Kurt stepped up to the edge. His reflection grinned back at him. He sat down and slowly let his feet and lower legs sink into the heated water. Pure comfort. He leaned on his arms and his head tilted back as his eyes closed, wondering if this quiet piece of serenity was his own personal heaven.

' _Cannonball!'_

Eyes bulging open, Kurt snapped his gaze back to his surroundings only quick enough to catch the final step of a running Blaine before he leapt high into the air, pulling himself up into a ball and crashing into the pool a mere two feet from where Kurt's suddenly tense legs were.

Kurt squeaked as he shielded his eyes from the wave which attacked him. He was stunned, but once Blaine's black-haired head broke through the surface, anger soon filled him to the brim. 'You have _got_ to be kidding me!' He cried, getting to his feet and glaring at the other man. 'What the hell – did you _follow_ me?' He couldn't stop the disgust from showing on his face.

Blaine swam backwards in a circle, tossing his wet hair around. 'It was hard not to, the way you announced your departure from the house so noisily.'

Kurt growled. 'You're such a prickish creep for following me!'

'Oh, go fuck a pony.'

Positively seething and still shocked at the other's unexpected appearance, Kurt stormed away from the waterfall fully intent on leaving and finding a murder weapon back at the villa. He wasn't going to enjoy this place with Blaine around. However, pride soon got the better of him as he was in the middle of collecting his things. 'No.' He snapped. He dumped his things on the ground and rounded on the still-swimming Blaine. 'Hell. No. _I_ found this place. You aren't going to chase me away from somewhere _I_ made the effort in finding.'

Blaine chuckled, still got even gracing him with a glance. 'Trust me, no one is chasing you anywhere, princess.'

Kurt struggled, but eventually he forced himself back into the banks. _That idiot doesn't appreciate this place. He's like a child, and like a child, he'll get bored fast. Screw him._ Privately slipping into the warmth of the pool, Kurt turned away from the splashing actor and let his legs and arms adjust to the feel of the water as he moved around. He dipped his head back, wetting most of his hair and sighed at the wonderful sensation of the sun on his face.

 _This is nice. I can still enjoy it with him around. I can just go to the far side to keep out of his way. I'll sunbathe up on the boulders, out of his reach. I'll paddle in the mist. It'll be like he's not even here. I don't even notice his splashing anymore._

No. Wait.

Kurt opened his eyes and turned back to the rest of the pool. He couldn't hear splashing anymore because there was no splashing to be heard. Blaine was nowhere to be seen.

'Blaine?' Kurt called timidly, looking around the waterfall and then onto the banks. The other man had gone. _Surely it is too much to hope he got bored or distracted by something else and just…left, right?_ Nervously, Kurt shoved himself away from the edge into the middle of the pool. His eyes darted every way but it was as if he had just vanished in to thin air.

Then he felt something attack his hips. Screaming, Kurt kicked his legs out and his arms slammed into the water as what he could only assume was a waterfall shark tried to take a bite out of his thigh. The shark had very hand-sy teeth. He made crawling motions away from the claws now at his knees. Reality suddenly dawned on him when the dark mass hovering around his mid-section became all-too familiar. 'You _asshole!'_ Kurt shrieked, his arms and legs striking his attacker as the hands seemed to grip down his ankles and feet.

He did not bother to shield his eyes from the explosion of droplets when Blaine broke through the surface again, his grin stretching from ear to ear. After taking in some recovery air, Blaine howled with laughter. 'You're such an over-reactor, Kurt!' Tears from laughing so hard were indecipherable from the pool's water drops. 'I wasn't sure if you were being electrocuted or trying to present yourself for mounting.'

Kurt slammed a wave of water at him when he realised his own fists were not attributing to anything. 'I almost had a fucking heart attack!' He shouted. 'Don't touch me – _ever!'_

Blaine managed to calm his laughs to a humorous smirk. 'Roger won't be too happy to hear you saying that,' He challenged. He then arched a brow. 'But all I was doing was making sure you were obeying the rules.'

Later, Kurt would acknowledge that it was foolish to respond the way he was about to, but at the time he was too emotionally charged to think. 'Obey _what_ rules?' He snapped.

Blaine licked his lips, his smirk widening, as he pulled his hand up from below. He held a dark green mesh and at first Kurt thought it was a mound of seaweed. Then he gawked and paled. It was his swimming trunks. 'This is a skinny-dipping pool,'

Kurt suddenly felt more naked now than he ever had done on set, having never been forced out of clothes outside of role-playing. His hand drifted below in a futile attempt of covering himself. 'You're disgusting.' Kurt glared, and then he pulled a face. 'Oh god, you're naked too, aren't you?'

Blaine spun Kurt's trunks around on his finger by the waist band. 'You seem surprised for some reason.' Kurt let out a frustrated growl and made a grab for his trunks, but Blaine swam back and kept them out of reach. 'Nu-uh, Kurt, you want to be here, you gotta be naked!'

'You're an even bigger creep than even I thought you were!' Kurt cried, and swam after him. There was no way he was climbing out of this body of water, ass in the air, without his trunks on. However, even with Blaine pausing every now and then to play more with the piece of clothing, Kurt could not quite grab it. He almost had him as they got into the mist but Blaine and his taunting soon disappeared behind the cascading water.

Kurt paused within the mist. There was probably some little cave-like hideout Blaine was crouched in behind the waterfall where he was no doubt laughing at Kurt's failed attempts at catching him. He half-turned, not wanting to give chase again, but he knew he'd have to get his trunks back.

 _I'll get them and leave, come back later when he isn't here. Screw pride, he can have this place for today if it means I don't need to interact with him again. But first, I need those trunks. I didn't bring another pair, and I will_ not _skinny dip._

Bracing himself for what he thought to be another chase, Kurt urged himself through the smashing waterfall and emerged blindly out the other side. Pushing the water from his eyes, he looked around: the cave he expected was more of a cavern. The ceiling was high enough to probably reach half way up the waterfall outside, rocks and spikes jutted out from the shiny grey walls. The sun managed to shine through the crashing wall of water enough to allow Kurt to see. A few feet away, Blaine lounged on an exposed rock, one leg up lazily displaying his naked body. It was a crotch show if there ever was one. All over the globe, hidden in the hard drives of openly and closeted gay men, sat hours and hours of footage of Blaine Anderson, as _Darcy's Secret's_ very own Dorian in all his nude glory. It was the body wet dreams were made from, and the very body company rival _Wayward Productions_ was allegedly eager to recruit for their own film-making. However, it was also the same body which turned Kurt's stomach under the circumstances. Kurt deliberately avoided even glancing at anything other than Blaine's amused eyes. 'There you are, sweetheart – what took you so long?' Came the mocking welcome.

'Give me my trunks back. Now.'

Blaine rolled his eyes. 'So demanding…' But then he pointed upwards. Kurt followed the direction of his finger and balked at the sight. His trunks hung snugly from a stalactite-like spike protruding from the cavern ceiling. 'They're all yours…if you can reach them.'

Kurt could have killed him, but he knew the sooner he got them back, the sooner he could leave. Without a word, he pulled himself onto a lower rock and shakily climbed up a few more until he was as close to the spike as he could be. He stretched up, timidly placing his body against the rough walls. His fingertips were a good few inches shy of the trunks. Without thinking of appearances, he jumped and succeeded in doing three things: grazing his hip against stone, shifting the trunks closer into reach, and sending Blaine back into hysterical laughter.

'Oh my _God!_ ' Blaine choked out.

Kurt flushed and cursed under his breath as he knew the small scratch would soon bleed if he did again. He readjusted his position and stretched again.

'Such sexy legs when you're straining – don't hide them with clothes,'

Kurt ignored him and managed to tug his trunks off the hook they had been stuck on. Feeling both victorious and foolish, Kurt turned and hopped down towards the water again, aiming to leave. But Blaine caught him by the shoulder, gesturing to the graze on his hip. 'Hey, you got a boo-boo – want me to kiss and suck it better?' Kurt looked up at the grinning face, those hazel eyes mocking him with each passing moment. Kurt clenched his jaw and gave an almighty push, sending Blaine hurtling into the water unceremoniously. The split second of shock and fear on Blaine's face was enough of a reward for Kurt as he dove out through the waterfall again. Meeting the sunlight, Kurt half-swam, half-dressed himself. He reached the banks and pulled himself up just as Blaine's irritated voice called.

'Trying to drown me, Alice from Wonderland? I could sue you for intent to harm!' Kurt ignored him as he grabbed a towel and angrily dried himself. He could hear Blaine returning to his splashing ways, throwing insult after insult to antagonise him. 'Over-reacting again? I shouldn't be surprised. You scared of spending a little time with me? Walk out all this way and then scamper like a little rabbit when I play with you? I'll tell Roger you won't play.' The laughter which followed almost succeeded in making Kurt snap back, but it was at that moment he saw a mound of clothes which weren't his.

Blaine's clothes.

Kurt bit his lip as a new smile broke onto his face. How long had it taken to walk out here? Thirty minutes? And so much of the trail is uneven forest floor… Not very pleasant without proper footwear. And then there's the very road they would have to trek back down to reach Roger's home…

Kurt acted quickly, dressing himself and stuffing everything into his bag. With Blaine's clothes, the backpack was ready to burst, but it would hold. Only when he was absolutely ready did Kurt turn back to the still-swimming Blaine. The slightly older male was still singing off insults at him as he did a backstroke, his cock occasionally making an appearance. 'Such a pussy-boy, I should start calling you Pussy Jude during our filming. I think it'll catch on.'

'Maybe.' Kurt retorted, causing Blaine to stop mid-swim to look at him. 'But at least I'll be a pussy who gets back home fully-clothed.' Blaine arched a brow, not understanding. 'Don't worry, just think of it as skinny-hiking and I'm sure you'll be fine.' Kurt patted the backpack. Blaine looked to where he had left his shirt and shorts and his eyes widened when he made the connection between their disappearances and Kurt's bag contents. 'And before you ask…yeah. I got your sneakers. See you at home!'

Blaine opened his mouth to shout but Kurt didn't hear the array of curse words and threats as he made a run out of the clearing and back into the dense woodland. The splashes of Blaine trying to get out to stop him eventually were long behind him, but he continued sprinting all the way down the trail to the main road. There, he doubled over and laughed until his whole body ached. The image of a red, spluttering Blaine as he tries to get through the woodland area without standing on nettles – a failure waiting to happen – was too much for him. The ten minutes of walking which followed as he made his way down to the villa again was broken up by bouts of severe giggling and all-out laugh attacks.

* * *

Once back in the house, Kurt smugly locked the door behind him and secured the back patio door and windows. He then took his time arranging a late-lunch and brought it upstairs to a bedroom balcony which overlooked the driveway. It took another twenty minutes before Blaine, spluttering obscenities and butt-naked with muddied and dusty feet trudged into view. Kurt waited until he tried the front door before he issued a wolf-whistle. 'Sorry, I didn't order a nude singing telegram, but I would love to hear a song.'

Blaine looked up at him, his eyes murderous. 'You piece of shit!' He spat, 'I'm going to fucking kill you.'

Kurt hummed, 'Wow, that's a mighty brave thing to say to the person who will decide to let you in or not.' He watched with pleasing expectation as Blaine disappeared round the side of the house and could be heard trying the back door.

' _Shit!'_

Eventually, Blaine stormed around again and shouted up at Kurt. 'Open the door!'

Kurt appeared to consider it. 'Hmm, no… No. I don't think so. Not without a song.'

'A song? A song, are you fucking kidding me- Open the _door!_ ' Kurt twiddled his thumbs in full view of him. Blaine snarled. 'Must feel good to have the upper hand, but the longer you make me wait, the longer I'm going to pound you into oblivion when I get back inside.'

Kurt sighed, wincing. 'It's just so _hard_ to take your threats seriously, you know? Especially when your cock looks like it's going to get sunburnt the longer you hold out on singing for me. If you're not going to sing, I'd recommend finding a tree to take shade under. A burnt dick is bound to be painful, and you might not be able to work again.' His feigned caring was met with a firm kick to the front door, which barely shuddered despite Blaine's strength. He now faked irritation. 'Hey, keep it down! All that walking and swimming today, I need a nap. You know what you need to do.'

Kurt then skipped back inside and lay down triumphantly on the bed. Outside, Blaine returned to shouting obscenities and threats, occasionally releasing a strangled scream of anger as he marched around the house trying to find a breakable window or some other route of entry.

It took well over two hours – long enough for Kurt to start to nod off unintentionally – but at last, it happened. Blaine broke.

' _There's a place_

 _That I know._

 _It's not pretty there, and few have ever gone._

 _If I show it to you now_

 _Will it make you run away?'_

Kurt opened his eyes, almost positive he was hearing things. The voice was so quiet, maybe it was his imagination? He sat up and looked towards the opened balcony doors.

' _Or will you stay_

 _Even if it hurts._

 _Even if I try to push you out_

 _Will you return?_

 _And remind me who I really am_

 _Please remind me who I really am…'_

Kurt peeked out. Below, slouched against a giant stone plant pot he was using for shade, Blaine looked positively exhausted. His temper tantrum must have taken all his energy. His hair – which earlier had been slicked back with water – had dried frizzy and Kurt was shocked to see Blaine sporting a natural afro. He looked practically adorable, like a kid fighting off the sleep the parent had insisted they needed. Guilt tugged at Kurt's heart.

' _Everybody's got a dark side_

 _Do you love me?_

 _Can you love mine?_

 _Nobody's a picture perfect_

 _But we're worth it_

 _You know that we're worth it_

 _Will you love me?_

 _Even with my dark side?'_

Kurt stood leaning against the balcony out of sight, listening. Finally, he sighed. Deal was a deal. He headed downstairs and paused at the front door. What if Blaine was just faking it and was really getting himself ready to pummel Kurt as promised the moment the lock clicked out of place? Well, that was a risk Kurt was just going to have to take. He opened the door. At first, Blaine didn't even seem to realise he was there. His eyes were closed, his naked frame cradled in on itself as if it were cold. Kurt began to worry. Blaine couldn't have gotten sun stroke, right? Two days of sunbathing and suddenly he gets sick? That can't be possible…right?

Fortunately, as Kurt stepped out onto the porch, he could breathe a sigh of relief as Blaine noticed him and slowly pushed himself up into a seating position. Feeling like he'd best just go back inside and wait somewhere neutral, Kurt headed to the dining area just off from the living room. It took a couple of minutes but soon Blaine could be heard shutting the door quietly behind him and gradually walking around. Kurt saw him enter the living room, glance in Kurt's direction, before collapsing onto the couch. Kurt stood up, concerned, but noticed that Blaine was snoring quietly mere moments after hitting the cushions.

The following half hour was spent deliberating on the couch opposite Blaine how best to handle the situation. Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and as deserving as Blaine was for the revenge Kurt served, it wasn't the smartest or most mature thing to do. It had been a hot day, with no cloud in the sky. If Blaine had a heat stroke, not taking notice of him for two hours could have been deadly. If nothing else, Kurt lowering himself to Blaine's taunting levels had no doubt aggravated their whole situation because Blaine's ego was far greater and more easily damaged than Kurt's. It wasn't fun being the responsible one, but Kurt knew that was his role in this dynamic. Blaine was the tormentor and instigator, Kurt was the one who remained resilient and strong. He wished his fun hadn't been spoilt in the end, but he guessed he only had himself to blame. And when Blaine recovered from his exhaustion? Well, hell was surely going to be paid.

Sighing, Kurt went to the kitchen and fixed up a sandwich. He covered it securely with a cling film wrap and scribbled a note on a piece of paper. Leaving both on the coffee table by Blaine's side, Kurt headed upstairs to take a shower.

A while later, Blaine opened his eyes groggily and peered across at the temptingly large sandwich in his view. He leaned up and noticed the note beside it.

 _Sorry for over-reacting. You sing pretty well._

* * *

A.N. Next chapter: Kurt showing off, some dancing and perhaps some bedroom action... Please be kind and review!


	3. Kurt's Hidden Talents

A.N. Hello again! Hope you have all had a wonderful start to your weekend. I'm extremely glad there have been readers who have found the start of the story enjoyable and at times funny – it's been nice writing that side of things again so hopefully it comes across. I just wanted to respond to a comment from the last update!

 **Western Wood** – I'm really glad the hints appear subtle and not in-your-face, they definitely are intentional but trying to write them as Kurt would allow the thoughts to seep in: accidental and then sudden change of topic. Dealing with it a bit more fully in chapter 4, but hopefully more clues will be in this update too. Thank you for reading! XD

As promised, there will be sexual content in this chapter so if descriptive sexual language bothers you then why on earth are you reading my stories?! XD

* * *

 **Kurt's Hidden Talents**

* * *

Day 5 of the prison sentence which was Kurt's forced vacation began with a sense of ill anticipation. His habits of over-thinking and repeating scenes he played a part in meant that the remainder of the day before was spent flitting between denial of guilt and utter misery. It hadn't helped that he had yet to even see Blaine, never mind speak to him, as after his shower the previous night the other actor was nowhere to be found but his bedroom door was, for once, closed by six o'clock.

Unable to understand what had changed – if anything – Kurt had a restless night and in the morning had lay in bed for nearly an hour just thinking until he heard the unmistakable sound of banging pans from the kitchen. He dressed himself and padded downstairs to find Blaine sitting at the breakfast bar eating through four pancakes in one go.

Blaine glanced up when Kurt issued a 'Morning', but otherwise remained in a dream-like state. Kurt bit his lip and decided it was perhaps best not to force a talk, and just let things go after all. He moved to leave.

'I overdid it on the pancakes.'

Kurt paused and looked back. Blaine was motioning vaguely to the high tower of said pancakes on the other counter. 'I can't eat any more. You finish it.'

Feeling like he was either being handed an olive branch of peace or a rope with which to hang himself if he acted wrongly, Kurt hesitated but eventually gave a smile. 'Thanks.' He helped himself and began chopping up a banana by the sink as Blaine ate behind him. Chewing on his lip, Kurt wondered how to proceed. 'I, uh, never pegged you as the pancake type. I've never seen you eat anything that wasn't in smoothie form.'

Blaine made a sound that he had heard him but other than that he gave Kurt no further affirmation.

A minute later, Kurt joined him at the breakfast bar. Blaine's left eye made the tiniest twitch in annoyance at the move, but he still said nothing. Kurt sighed. 'Listen, I'm sorry.'

Now his fellow actor looked up at him, his brows forming a straight line across his face. 'What for?' His question was less puzzled, more testing.

'For leaving you outside yesterday.' Kurt replied. He wondered if this was Blaine's way of brushing off the incident. 'It was stupid, immature, dangerous, and I just wanted to say s-'

'Yeah, why did you do that?' Blaine dropped his fork onto his plate, the resulting clinking noise unpleasantly sharp. Hazel eyes stared accusingly at blue ones.

Kurt folded his arms defensively. 'You know why. Anyway-'

'Explain it to me.' Blaine cut in again. 'Like you said, it was dangerous. I could have cut my feet up and got them infected on the walk back. Yesterday was hot as hell, being left outside in the heat – I might have needed to go to the hospital. Why'd you do it?'

Despite the guilt Kurt had himself racked up hitting him hard, he refused to accept it all like there was no catalyst for his actions. 'I did it because I wanted to get back at you for being a complete dick to me.' Kurt spoke fiercely.

'As, what, revenge?'

'I- Yeah.' Kurt nodded. 'Sure: revenge. I found that place and you ruined it. You tormented me, laughed at me. I was getting you back by taking your things.'

'You started it.'

Kurt almost burst. ' _What?_ Are you being seri- I did not st-' Spluttering out half-sentences thanks to newly sparked anger, Kurt had to force himself to stop. It hurt, but he managed it. 'No, you know what? Forget it.' He stood up, pushed his barely touched breakfast away and made for the door. 'I'm sorry. That's it. Forget everything else.'

'That's you're problem.' Came the sigh of a response.

Kurt froze at the door, bristling. He rounded on the still-eating actor. 'Excuse me?' He challenged.

Blaine shrugged. 'I said that's your problem: You back down. I start something. I push and push. I deliberately hammer your buttons until you do it back, and you're the one apologising like a whore during confession.' Kurt's bristles lessened, replacing his anger with confusion. Blaine reached for another handful of nuts to sprinkle on what little pancakes he had left. He sat completely relaxed. 'I was ready to kick your ass bloody when you took my things and locked me out, but at least for once I respected your backbone.' He took another forkful and shook his head lightly. 'Just when you get interesting, you go and spoil it all by being nice.'

Kurt slowly walked back to the bar, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand. 'So, it's my fault that I…don't…not apologise?' Blaine hummed but it meant little. Kurt tried to follow the logic. 'So, you must know that you are in the wrong to begin with.' He looked at the pancakes. 'Is this your apology to me?'

Blaine snorted loudly, looking both disgusted by the idea and tickled by it. 'Wow, if that's what you think is going on then you're more of a pussy that I thought.' He stood up and grabbed a dish towel to dab his mouth. 'Quit acting like a girl looking for secret messages that aren't there.' Kurt frowned. _I knew it was too good to be true._ 'And if you think I'm not going to get you back for the stunt you pulled yesterday, you're sadly mistaken.' Blaine's stare only enhanced the threat. He then glanced around the kitchen at the mess he made during his cooking period. 'Clean this up. I'll be outside.'

And with that, Blaine tossed the dish towel at Kurt's face and sauntered out to the hall. Instantly angered again, Kurt made to go after him. 'What, you think I've nothing better to do than clean up after y-' But Blaine was already at the open front door wrestling his shoes on. Kurt released a grunt as he conceded and picked up Blaine's finished plate. He then paused and poked his head back into the hall. 'After yesterday, do you really think it's a good idea for you to be sunbathing again?'

'Probably not.' Came the bored reply. 'That's why I'm not going to.'

Kurt didn't get the opportunity to ask anything further; Blaine slammed the door behind him.

* * *

One benefit of Blaine's absence was that Kurt finally felt he had reason to venture out onto the patio and look down at the pool. The vacant lounger enticed him to follow in Blaine's footsteps: he stripped down to his trunks and carefully lay down under the sun's rays. His housemate no where in sight, having not been seen in a couple of hours, Kurt felt at ease finally being able to relax with his well-sunscreeneded skin basking in the hot glow.

 _This is nice. Maybe I can encourage my skin to lose some of its snowy tone._

Part of him wondered if he should go around the other sides of the house to see what Blaine was up to, especially when the occasional bump or clunk echoed around the yard, but he figured it was none of his business. Just as he was reaching for his cell and earphones to enjoy some smooth, summery tunes, the sudden and loud sound of a gunshot jolted him from his lounging position. He whipped his head back and forth like crazy, searching for some mad gunman or sniper. He stumbled to his feet and hastily stuffed his shoes on before running around the side of the villa.

 _Oh my god, if his idea of revenge is shooting me or shooting himself and then_ blaming _me then that is so, so uncool!_

But the Blaine he found was not maimed or wielding a gun at all. His clothes were stained with grime and oil, and patches of his face and hands were practically stained with the same gunk. He saw Kurt come running.

'What the hell was that?' Kurt demanded to know.

Blaine grinned. 'That masculine sound was a car backfiring. To explain what that means would take too long. Why, did it frighten you?'

'The fact that you think a car backfiring requires a long-winded explanation is more frightening,' Kurt shot back so fast that even Blaine's smile faltered. 'If you're messing with my car, Anderson, I swear I'll-'

Blaine raised his hands. 'Trust me, I won't be touching a car like yours unless I become a grandpa.' He flicked his middle and index fingers for Kurt to approach. Kurt stepped closer and found Blaine had been working on a car he had never seen before: an old Dodge that was still half-concealed beneath a ragged sheet. Kurt hazarded a guess that it was a 50s model, with its grand body work and smoky rust giving its dark red coat a classic look of nostalgia. 'One of Roger's cars, I'm guessing.' Blaine rounded to the driver's door. 'I noticed it when we first got here but it wasn't until yesterday I managed to wrangle my way inside and found the car keys taped behind the steering wheel. Tried to start it but the whole engine is pretty much demised. Been working on it for hours now. I think it's time to call time of death.'

Kurt circled the vehicle, admittedly interested in such a beautiful (if beaten) automobile. His dad used to buy these as a hobby and usually managed to sell them for a healthy profit after he and Kurt spent days fixing them up. Something stirred inside Kurt's heart. His dad put the money aside for Kurt to use once he graduated high school, most likely for college. But that didn't happen. 'What makes you think it's past saving?' Kurt questioned as he popped the hood and investigated.

Blaine rubbed his oiled hands against the rag covering but it didn't do much to remove the stains. 'I've tried everything. I don't think even internet access to online guides would help. Don't get tearful, Mr Sensitive, but sometimes cars just die.'

Kurt hummed flatly. He then grabbed Blaine's discarded hoodie and threw it over his bare upper body. 'Hey!' Blaine frowned and moved to take it off him, but Kurt was already on the ground and shuffling his shoulder blades against the ground to shimmy under the car. ' _Hey!'_ Blaine snapped louder. 'Asshole, you're messing up my clothes! You're paying to have that dry-cleaned!'

Kurt ignored him. 'It backfired because there's a problem with the ignition system. There's also the leaky radiator.'

He couldn't see the it but the other actor he scratched his head in confusion, both at what Kurt said and how he knew about such things. 'Oh, uh, yeah?' He winced. 'Sounds like we'll need a mechanic if we're going to get it running again.'

'Why?' Kurt asked, still checking the lower half of the car for any more problems. 'We just need to drain the radiator, mend the leak with a sealant – I can make one if we can't find any around the place – patch up the area, replace the fluid, then fix the valve openings to stop the air imbalance.' Kurt then poked his head out and smirked up at Blaine. 'That masculine sound _you_ just heard was engine talk by someone who actually knows what they're doing. Some of us don't need to worry about crying over cars: we're not in the habit of letting them die on us.' Feeling triumphant and damn proud of the look of positive bewilderment on Blaine's face, Kurt pulled himself out and handed the hoodie back. 'Shouldn't take me long. Why don't you go make yourself pretty while I go get better dressed for the work? A petroleum jelly bath followed by a sugar scrub will get those dainty hands clean again. Motor oil can be stubborn.'

He could feel Blaine's burning eyes on the back of his head as he strode inside.

* * *

Blaine was still eyeing him suspiciously when the motor started – and continued purring healthily – at Kurt's turn of the key in the ignition.

'You drive a fucking Honda.' Blaine stated. 'How do you know how to fix cars?'

Kurt tapped his nose and then bypassed the question, leaning on the hood lazily. 'So, I guess I should ask why you wanted to get this thing working to begin with. You know Roger will go crazy if you leave this place.'

Blaine seemed to get over his mistrust of Kurt's abilities quickly once he was reminded of his goal. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them happily. 'I want to party. And this is my ticket to a night of dancing, drinking and hooking up.'

Kurt pulled a face. The life of a porn star was always going to be looked down upon as a sleazy and depraved example of what was wrong with today's world, much like what Blaine described, but Kurt didn't fit in with that stereotype. 'Whoa, talk about aiming for the stars…' He rolled his eyes. 'Look, I'd threaten you, come at you with the reality of Roger _definitely_ finding out and the fact that I wouldn't trust that car to take you to and from LA – but I know you aren't going to listen.' He paused. 'And I guess it would be nice to have the place to myself for the night… So I'm just going to say-' He took the keys out and tossed them into Blaine's catching hands, 'Have fun. I won't wait up.'

Kurt turned and began to walk inside, but was puzzled to hear Blaine following behind him. 'You're right; the threats and reality won't stop me. I'd happily risk it if it means a night of freedom. I looked up these parts before we came out here. Unlike you and your picturesque waterfall, I found out the town at the bottom of the hill is quite the gay district. Sure, I figured I would be able to take my own car until that asshole took our keys, but the Dodge is better than nothing now its running.' Kurt listened as he took off his dirtied shoes at the front door and made his way to the washing machine to clean his clothes. Blaine continued to ramble on behind him. 'Trust me, if I'd known he was going to take my keys and leave me car-less, I'd have taken _Waywards Productions_ last offer without a second thought. Screw loyalty to _Darcy's Secret_ , I want my car.'

The mention of the rival company's intent on having Blaine jump ship caused Kurt to experience a shiver up his spine. He hated the reminder that Blaine was always going to be in a far better position than he was. In fact, Blaine didn't even need to be here to save his job – from the sound of it, he had options – but Kurt was kind of relying on Blaine sticking to the plan. If he left, the company might blame Kurt and terminate his contract as a reaction. 'I understand. Go, have your freedom. I won't say to Roger.' He threw the clothes into the washer and tossed in the soap powder. Lots of it.

Blaine hopped up onto the machine, parting his legs on either side of the small door on the side so Kurt could still access it. Kurt glanced up, irked, but said nothing. Blaine leaned back on his hands and stared Kurt down. 'Come on, don't act like you aren't dying for a little freedom too.'

'Believe it or not,' Kurt sighed, 'I don't go out much. I'm quite happy just staying in and enjoying home comforts instead of loud music and non-professional gropers.'

Blaine didn't look convinced. 'Well, you'll still have to come anyway. I'll get lost, especially after fucking a few guys. It takes a while for the blood to travel northwards again, you know? I'll need you to make sure I get home.'

Kurt balked. 'How is that fair? I'm not your keeper! Get yourself home.' He slammed the washer door shut and moved off.

Blaine, once again, followed. 'Okay, let me be blunt: I might get hammered, and if I do – and I will – chances are I'll drive off the road on the way back up the hill. And I just don't think you'll be able to go on living knowing you could have prevented my death. So…you'll just have to come.'

The tone was said in jest but with an underlying slither of honesty. Kurt stopped in his tracks and rounded on Blaine. The slightly older male merely smiled back at him, hands dipping into his pockets smoothly. Several long moments passed. At last, Kurt released an angered groan. 'When are you leaving?'

* * *

The answer to Kurt's question might well have been: _later than Kurt would have liked_. By the time they were twisting and turning down the hillside in the beat-up Dodge, the sky was an inky black and the stars were at their brightest thanks to the utter lack of street lights on this rural road. Why party animals insist on late nights, Kurt would never know or accept. As the car clock ticked past ten o'clock, he slipped further down in the front passenger seat in depression.

Blaine, on the other hand, hummed and batted his hands on the steering wheel in time with the radio's song. At least someone was in a good mood. Kurt took a sneaky glance to his side: Blaine's punch-ably handsome face was illuminated a golden orange from the dashboard lights. Kurt's eyes dipped downwards, and he pulled a slight face at the skin-tight t shirt his driver was wearing: it looked like it had been painted on. The accompanying pants quietly boasted his toned muscles below the slick belt. Kurt bit his lip and looked at himself in the side mirror. He liked the 'classical' look, donning a smart fitted shirt underneath a sensible V-neck sweater. In his bedroom he had thought it rather tight on his slim toned frame but next to Blaine he might as well be visiting church. The snort of laughter Blaine released at seeing him come downstairs sent his self-consciousness into overdrive but he gave himself a pep talk as he stalked past his judgmental roommate.

' _You are Jude Asher. You own the same body that countless men around the world scramble for their credit cards to see. You command a room when you are naked and at your most vulnerable. You are one of the biggest stars at_ Darcy's Secret _. You have nothing to be embarrassed of, and a lot to be confident about. Come on, Kurt, he's deliberately trying to rattle you because you are his only real competition.'_

But looking over for a second look, Kurt felt immediately pathetic next to Blaine. They were going to a nightclub district – why did he think a sweater was appropriate? Thank God for the tight jeans he dared wear, he might not have gotten in to a club without at least trying to seem sexual. Blaine, on the other hand, he had the body, sense, style and attitude that _Wayward Productions_ headhunted. Kurt had heard rumours of the rival company: they paid their actors higher salaries and allowed for more freedom in their contracts. If you didn't want to work with another actor, you were not forced to accept a pay cut to have the stipulation in your contract. One third glance towards the driver caused Kurt to feel something close to sorrow: _If I had asked them to put you in my contract as well, I'd practically have no wages. I still have to suffer the Great Dorian…_

'I'd say take a picture, it would last longer, but at my rates you'd have to pay ten bucks.' Blaine suddenly told him.

Kurt jerked upright. 'What?' Blaine took his eyes away from the darkness up ahead to issue Kurt with a knowing smirk. The younger male reddened: he had been caught staring. He rolled his eyes immediately in an attempt to seem irritated. 'Don't flatter yourself, I was only questioning the sanity of whoever thinks your worth stealing from _Darcy's Secret._ Doesn't _Wayward_ have higher standards than that?'

'Their high standards keep trash like you from casting a shadow on their company grounds. But they know I'm a gold mine. You're letting your jealousy show, blue eyes.'

Kurt scoffed and shook his head, turning away to look down at the twinkling lights of the town they were driving to. After a minute, though, his curiosity got the better of him. 'It's true, then?' He asked. Blaine made a questioning noise, not understanding. 'You're getting all those offers. From _Wayward_ as well?'

Blaine tilted his head. 'I get more offers than I even tell Roger about. The guy would freak out if he knew what people were after me.'

The factual tone caused Kurt to feel a twinge of worry. 'And is what they're offering tempting compared to _Darcy's_?'

Blaine laughed a little. 'I question why I haven't left already. The contracts are incredible at _Waywards: s_ oaring pay rise, being part of the decision and creativity processes for once, and the quality of their sets and costume departments are out of this world!'

Kurt's eyes bulged, turning back to Blaine so quickly he could have damaged his neck. 'Wait – you've _been_ to their sets?'

Blaine winced, realising he let more slip than intended. He hesitated before answering. 'I got my sixth offer from them and thought it rude not to take a tour. I just explored. It was…enlightening.'

'But you still haven't left.' Kurt pointed out. 'Can't be that good.'

'I stay purely for the friends.' Blaine shot back seriously. 'Maybe if you weren't such a princess, you might actually make a friend and understand that the prospect of leaving a good social scene can have an impact on your decisions. Besides, as easy as it would be to do, I don't want to break any contract in my career. I might as well see this one out to the end of the year and maintain a sense of loyalty, though that thought is fading fast…'

The admission caught Kurt by surprise and he found himself unable to comment further. He fell silent as the rest of the drive took them into town.

* * *

A small town in rural California did not jump out to Kurt as a potential haven for partying gay men, but he was proven wrong as the silent, picturesque, twinkling-light town he observed from the hills morphed into a flashing and lively club scene in front of his very eyes. He would have reveled in the atmosphere, with the party music and never-ending parade of men emerging from tiny lanes onto the main street they were on, if only he was promised he did not have to leave the safety of the car. That was a problem of his: he could appreciate the hell out of an ambiance but rarely wanted to get involved himself.

Blaine's tightened and released his grip on the steering wheel with excited anticipation. Comments on the many things they were passing mixed with sudden, and often interrupting, swear words. 'Did you see that drag queen back th- Shit! That guy looks like a sexy Macaulay Culkin! What's the name of the club he's going into? _Dragon's Dance_? Okay, I'll head there after I've checked this place out a lit- _Fuck!_ Check the ass on the blonde! Kurt – oh my God – I might never leave here. I know it's nothing like LA but I don't give a shit; five days without sex, I'm easily converted. Did I bring condoms? I always have a few in my wallet but I don't think that'll be enough. Dammit. Kurt, how many do you have on you?'

Kurt had been doing a pretty good job of ignoring him, but the blind smack on the shoulder he had just received forced him back in. He rolled his eyes. 'That's beyond disturbing. And it's none of your business, you aren't getting any.' Truthfully, when it came to condoms, he carried none. Of course, it was smart to have one handy 'just in case', but he knew himself well enough: he didn't just sleep with people he just met. The last condom he carried for 'emergencies' expired long ago, and he didn't bother to replace it after throwing it in the trash. He hadn't had a one-night-stand in a few years because they depressed him so much, and made him feel used throughout the experience.

As an actor in the fine world of porn, he knew his uneasiness made little sense, but he didn't need to explain himself to anyone, even less so to Blaine, who groaned. 'Why do you have to be so difficult? It's not like you're going to use them! Just give me few.'

'I'm sure between you and the guys you mess around with tonight, you'll come up with enough condoms somehow.'

'You're an asshole.'

'An asshole who didn't want to come out in the first place, so leave me alone.'

They parked up in a large square that seemed to be surrounded by bars and clubs. Kurt hesitated before stepping out. _Just a few hours, that's all. Change of scene, a little people-watching – you'll be fine._

'Okay – meet you back here later.' Blaine announced and began to walk away.

Kurt looked around wildly. 'Wait – when? We need to establish a time! Hey, give me the keys in case I have to drive around to find you!'

But Blaine was just waving him off as he strode off, not even turning his head away from his destination which appeared to be a nightclub named _Treachery._ Kurt winced. Why did these places need to have such dramatic names? He looked around for some sign of comfort – _Is it too much to ask for a twenty-four hour coffee shop?_ – but there was nowhere worthy of being deemed Kurt-approved.

Eyes flitting from one bar to the next, Kurt realised how lost he was in this situation. He couldn't hang outside for hours waiting for Blaine's eventual return, but where should he go? Biting his lip, he decided it might be a good idea just to be wherever Blaine happened to be. That way he might be able to get him home more easily, and Blaine's instinct for cool places meant Kurt would avoid the more unsavoury establishments. Tentatively, he followed after his housemate. Just as he moved to step through the door, however, a hand grabbed him from behind. His heart leapt to his throat and for a split second he thought he might collapse. When he turned to see a burly man wearing a black cap and security jacket, his panic subsided.

'You got ID, kid?'

Kurt felt some fear, but not for the same reason other twenty-something year olds might: he hadn't forgotten his wallet. No, his fear could be visually explained with the dozen bags of fan mail currently sitting at _Darcy's Secret_ headquarters. It was easy to forget that within the gay community, he might be recognisable to some people. The last thing he wanted was recognition, but here he was a small-scale Mecca of homosexual men. _Not all men watch porn, Kurt, and not all porn-watching gay men will even remember your face even if they have watched you in action. Get over yourself._ His inner voice calmed him down just in time for security to approve his driver's licence. 'Welcome to Treach.'

 _Treachery_ was styled with a _royal_ theme: grand chandeliers and thick plush upholstery in the colours red and deep blue. It was nicer than Kurt had expected, and with room to move as he took the spiral staircase down into the bar area situated off from a strobe-light room where countless men danced. Immediately, Kurt spotted Blaine. There was a twinge of jealousy at the sight of seeing he had already made many friends at the bar. They were, of course, handsome, and inching closer to Blaine every passing second. The dark haired man's grin and wriggling brows told that he was very happy with the attention and not all that surprised that it came so promptly. Kurt swallowed. _I'm not jealous for any reason other than I wish I could have half the confidence he has._ The thought made him pause. Perhaps he might actually like a little boost himself? Kurt headed to the far end of the bar and tried to sit up on the stool in a carefree but sexy fashion. The look the barman gave as he took his order told him he was failing. If that wasn't enough, no one approached him in the ten minutes he sat there.

 _I'm an adult film star. I have fans worldwide and I have made my company a shit-ton of money for simply being hot –_ _it should_ not _be this difficult!_

Another drink was ordered. Without car keys weighing down his pocket, Kurt felt he had permission to do so. That, and he had asked for the most un-alcoholic alcoholic cocktail on the menu. He then gave himself a serious pep talk as he eyed the dance floor. _You're overthinking. You're stressed. You are slumped on a stool cushioned well enough for the Queen herself to grace her derriere upon, you need to let loose. Kurt: you know you can dance. Show this small-town crowd the body they didn't know they wanted._

Kurt pulled a face at his own inner voice: he had been living with Blaine five days too long, it was starting to affect his mentality. Still, it was enough for him to leave the safety of the stool and, with the morsel of Dutch courage in his gut, stride onto the packed dance floor. Above him, streams of multi-coloured lights whizzed across his face and the floor under his feet thumped with drumbeats. Kurt began to dance.

Over the sound system, some famous European DJ's hit was playing. Kurt was sure he might have heard it before, but it was a vocal-less remix that was lost on him. Something didn't feel right; his body wasn't moving the way it normally did when he let loose. _That's because you_ aren't _letting anything loose but your dignity!_ Kurt focused on a dancer a few feet in front of him and tried to copy his moves and carefree attitude. He failed miserably, feeling like a too-sturdy robot combusting from the inside out. This wasn't him: the club scene, the music, the entire evening – why was his sexual community making him feel like a failure?

 _In the words of Blaine – Fuck this!_

Stopping his dance moves in mid-flail, Kurt stalked off the dance floor and pushed his way to the surprised barman. 'What's the strongest drink you can do? That's fine. Give me two.'

After tipping the man well for recognising the urgency of the situation, Kurt stood on his tip toes and threw the drink back. The concoction of liquors burned his throat, but he didn't stop. The second glass went down a lot smoother. He followed it up minutes later with a delicious cocktail to rid himself of the aftertaste. By the time he heard Lady Gaga's un-remixed track start, Kurt Hummel's feet were raring to go.

Repeating the words _no one knows me here_ in his head, he practically skipped back to the dance floor. His eyelids slid shut, his mind gave a sigh, and his body took over from there. Instincts directed his hips. The beat led his legs. Fuzzy warmth in his bones made his arms feel like they were floating, so he expertly began moving them around his head. He felt his sweater rise to revel his toned navel, and the heat of the air making his pants feel like a second skin. For some reason, it only enhanced his motivation. The darkness he had put around him by closing his eyes was regularly tested by the flashing lights but he still felt like he was in his own world where he finally had control. Lady Gaga transitioned to Whitney Houston, Whitney to Adam Lambert. At last, Kurt knew the tracks. He didn't care if he was all alone, so long as he could still let the music flow through his veins. _Blaine was right: I did need this._ It was a little bump on his elbow which made Kurt open his eyes at last. Immediately, he issued a small gasp.

Unsure how he had done so, Kurt had attracted a sizable crowd of interested men, each one eyeing his frame like hungry carnivores. One gent was even biting his lower lip whilst staring intently at Kurt's rear. A few at his side were actively seeking to nudge their competitors out of the way, and he could feel the heat of bodies right behind him. The nudge on the elbow escalated into having parts of these men pressing in closer. Someone asked his star sign, but he couldn't figure out which one it was. Suddenly both excited at the fact he had succeeded in proving his sexiness and nervous at what his success looked like – _so many people, so many hands –_ Kurt smiled shyly and slid through a gap in the circle surrounding him. A few men tried to encourage him to stay, but he pretended he couldn't hear and danced to the other side of the room. That was the only confidence boost he needed, he decided, and he re-positioned himself in a shadowy section to continue dancing without attracting any more flattering-yet-overwhelming attention.

A hand found the small of his back. Jumping, Kurt turned. A small number of guys had followed after him and were closing in tight.

'Why you running, honey?'

'Shake that sexy ass this way!'

'You wanna join me round back? I'll show you what my body can do…'

Kurt's heart began to beat too fast: his head became fuzzy in the panic which hit him hard and fast. Shameless hands were touching him now, and he felt the unmistakable sensation of someone sliding against his leg. Lips spoke in both ears. Someone took hold of his wrist and seemed to be tugging him in the direction of a private bathroom. Kurt pulled his hand back and tried to break through the barrier of bodies, but not one single guy moved. A few laughed and pressed in even tighter: Kurt couldn't even move his feet anymore. Behind him, someone grabbed his hips and was grinding into his ass. Kurt cried out and tried to shove him off, his heart positively hammering against his chest so bad it hurt.

One young man, tall and cocky, grinned like the Cheshire cat as he took hold of Kurt's face and said, 'You look just like porn star Jude Asher!'

'Stop it – get off me!' Kurt shouted out, but the noise around him either drowned him out or the group he had found himself trapped within were not taking his no's for an answer. The room began to spin out of control, Kurt was pushed and shoved in every direction that he no longer found balance. Tears began to form in his panicked eyes and his throat hitched painfully for the onset of fearful sobs.

However, before he broke, he saw two men at his right hand side be torn away from him. The gap they left was instantly filled by one man: Blaine. Kurt stared at him for the briefest of seconds before stepping in towards his body. He didn't care if Blaine would push him off, so long as he could escape the trap. However, Blaine's arm wrapped around him and pulled him in close, forcing Kurt's face into his neck. With his other arm, the other male roughly shoved off the approaching animals who wanted their prey back.

'He's taken!' Blaine shouted angrily.

Someone began to argue with him, obviously doubting Blaine's words and under the impression he was stealing Kurt from the hard workers who had managed to get him cornered. Kurt immediately wrapped both his arms around Blaine's shoulder blades and pressed his lips against his jaw in what was hopefully a show of affection. Regardless of whether they believed Blaine or not, in the eyes of the handsy dancers, he had definitely 'won'. Eventually the crowd dispersed back to the rest of the dance floor, and Blaine was able to walk Kurt to the far end of the bar. Kurt gripped the side of the counter hard, pressing his hot face against the cool surface until his rapid breathing had steadied and his heart stopped hurting him with every beat.

 _You're such an idiot, Kurt._

The sentiment could have easily come from Blaine, who was eyeing him carefully, but Kurt knew his inner voice was the one who had spoken. He took a few deep breaths and finally looked up to his 'saviour'. He was embarrassed for so many reasons, but with those hazel eyes focusing only on him, his biggest reason now was that it was the foolish party animal had been the person to step in. Kurt was supposed to be the sensible one: the last thing he should have needed was Blaine's assistance.

'Sorry,' Kurt mumbled. He wrapped his arms across himself, and accidentally displayed his defensiveness. 'I mean, thank you. I-I'm fine now, you don't need to stay. Go have fun. I can get myself out of here and head straight to the car. I don't need watched over like a kid.'

He knew his initial intention to show his appreciation should not have ended so bitterly, but his emotions were not quite intact yet. Blaine, however, raised an eyebrow and spoke with surprising calmness. 'You're welcome. And for your information, I was not watching over you like a kid. I had better things to do than be your mommy.' Kurt sighed and looked off in shame. _Like I didn't already know I had interrupted his good night, he feels the need to say so. Fantastic._ Blaine continued. 'Better things like following a sweet piece of ass who was dancing like a stripper and owning the dance floor.' Kurt wrinkled his nose and looked back at Blaine, confused. The dark-haired man smirked. 'It's not my fault that ass belonged to a certain condom-hording, car-fixing boy from Ohio. You have many hidden talents.'

Shocked beyond his comprehension, Kurt's mouth dropped open a little at what he could only take as a compliment. Blaine did not follow his words up with any 'Gotcha!' or 'Psyche!' so Kurt had to accept the possibility he was being truthful. The alcohol in his system couldn't conceal the grin which stretched out over his face. That was a bigger confidence boost than a hundred guys trying to dance with you. Blaine Anderson was complimenting him.

Kurt felt his cheeks flush. He laughed a little and turned back to the bar. 'Thanks.' He finally said. 'But I mean it: I've taken you away from your partying night long enough. I'll stay up here and try to sober up, you go back to your fun.' He gave a half-hearted shove to show Blaine that he was no longer upset, and in fact somewhat pleased.

Blaine bypassed his hand and sidled up to his side, crossing his arms and leaning in close as if telling a secret. 'I would, but…' Kurt met his gaze, surprised to find both of them not at all bothered by the close proximity of their faces. Blaine grinned back. 'It would weird if we separated now. Your admirers are expecting us to dance. They're watching us. You don't want them to pounce on you the moment I'm gone, do you?' Kurt looked behind them: he couldn't see anyone looking their way. His eyes flitted back to Blaine's. The other's hand lightly touched his back. 'Let's dance a couple of songs to shake them off your tail, huh?'

Unsure what was controlling him, Kurt found himself nodding. 'Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.' Though the hand on his back was barely touching him, it felt like the palm was sending jolts of electricity through his spine. Curious, he let Blaine lead him by the hand to the dance floor.

In the past year, Blaine's cock had been deep inside of Kurt - kissing and pressing into him as they fucked for the camera in various compromising positions numerous times – and yet, Kurt felt instantly self-conscious moving his covered-up body to the music's rhythm against Blaine's fully clothed skin. At no point before now had Kurt paid any attention to the other actor's toned arms, his height or how his many thick lashes had a natural curl to them. Instead of simply admiring, Kurt found himself confused why this was all suddenly visible to him.

Blaine was smiling, sending Kurt down another rabbit hole of questions. Was he really enjoying himself? Or was there some hidden hate behind those hazel eyes that Kurt was just too drunk to recognise?

The music swiftly moved into a cheesy upbeat number – one from the seventies that everyone in the room gave an almighty cheer for. Around them, people were beginning to swing dance a little. Blaine saw this too and grinned widely with Kurt as the mood changed once again. Spurred on by the comedic moves of others, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and twirled him around. Kurt got dizzy but not too dizzy to stop him from twirling Blaine right back. They laughed as they argued over who was the better spinner – or at least that's what Kurt thought they were doing, considering the music got very loud. Blaine shouted that he was the winner, and began pointing to the ceiling in some sort of victory dance. Kurt held his sides as he laughed. He started to shimmy, and Blaine met his shimmy with his jazz-handed-mashed-potato combo. Kurt stared in wonder before narrowing his amused eyes. _You think you can out-corny me?_ Spurred on by the numerous other people around them throwing out their most ridiculous moves, Kurt did his best impression of John Travolta's routine from _Night Fever_. That caught Blaine by surprise and resulted in sending the usually smoldering _Dorian_ actor into fits of laughter. Kurt bit back his own giggles, turning himself around and twisting his hips as over-the-top as he could muster.

The music slowed, and a sensual tone seeped in as a replacement. Blaine's hands casually pull him close, Kurt's back towards Blaine's chest, his laughter turning into quiet chuckles in Kurt's ear. His hands remained where they were, his body a quarter inch from pressing into him. Kurt forgot himself and the vindictive enemy he had; he leaned back into Blaine's firm chest and began to dance against his body slowly. Blaine's laughter trailed off.

For over a minute, Kurt refused to think about what he was doing, or who he was doing it with: he just enjoyed the feeling of careful hands as they gently rubbed around his mid-section, and the constant contact against his ass. Blaine's cheek rested on his, and neither of them spoke as they slow-danced to their own private area of the dance floor. Before Kurt was forced to break through the surface of his awareness, and be made to acknowledge that what he was doing was so out of character, Blaine gradually turned Kurt around to face him. Kurt's arms were nudged up to wrap around Blaine's neck, and in return, Blaine ran his hands slowly up and down Kurt's sides and back. Fingers tucked inwards to stroke the dipped line where Kurt's spine ran, and the younger man shivered at the sensation. Blaine licked his lips and leaned his forehead against Kurt's.

 _What is happening?_

The inner voice sounded small and unsure whether to speak at all, as if being too loud would cause whatever ice they were on to crack. Kurt ignored it. He had mentioned his tipsiness earlier at the bar – if anything was to go wrong, and Blaine suddenly turn on him – he had his trusty _But I was drunk!_ excuse at the ready. He hoped that Blaine would not pull away, as he feared.

 _Why is it a fear? Why am I even letting this happen? Kurt! Snap out of it!_

But he snapped out of nothing, simply trying to keep his breathing steady as he swayed little by little, closer and closer. Songs passed. Perhaps more upbeat tunes came on, but neither of them were aware of it. Occasionally, Kurt would look up and see Blaine watching him with half-lidded eyes. Kurt would always be the first to look away, embarrassed at the intensity and feeling the air grow hot around them.

 _What is happening to me? I'm not attracted to him, not really: he's a jerk. He's not my type. He's an arrogant son of a bitch who has belittled and terrorised me since day one. His good looks are ruined by his crass and shallow personality, and one night of dancing isn't going to change-_

Kurt tilted his head up and, in a moment of unintentional bravery, kissed Blaine's mouth. It was quick: Kurt tore himself away barely a second after he realised what he had done. His heart began to pound again, only this time his fear was from his own brash actions and the upcoming consequences. 'I'm sorry,' He said immediately. Blaine stared at him, his wide eyes; accusing. 'Shit, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. I just got caught up and-'

Blaine's arm moved off him, and his hand was raised. Kurt wasn't all that surprised; he would have hit Blaine too if the roles had been reversed. But the punch he expected did not come. Instead, Blaine's hand took hold of Kurt's jaw, yanking his face upwards towards his. 'You need to shut up.' Blaine told him bluntly. Then, with a truckload more purpose than Kurt himself had found, Blaine kissed him. This kiss was not fleeting as before; instead, it was deliberately slow. And firm. His lips urged Kurt's apart, and his hot tongue broke in to taste freely. It was a good thing Blaine had such a strong hold on his jaw: Kurt felt his knees weaken and falling had become a real possibility. Blaine trapped his bottom lip between his teeth and used this leverage to pull him closer. Kurt moaned at the moment of pain, but was rewarded with a softer, more enjoyable nibble once Blaine had him against a wooden beam in the shadows. Bodies flushed up close together, and the heat becoming too much to think straight, Kurt felt his knees part willingly and Blaine slid his leg between the gap. As their tongues fought and their mouths gasping together, their lower halves grinded until a sudden awareness of where they were forced them to pause.

Kurt swallowed mouthfuls of air, his eyes never leaving Blaine's. He gave a small smile through his panting lips. 'If you keep this up,' He began, watching the way Blaine's eyes followed the shape his lips made as he spoke, 'you won't be able to convince anyone to screw you in the bathroom stall.'

It took a moment for Blaine to understand, but finally the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. 'Oh, I stopped looking for someone else when I learned you could move your hips like that.' He growled. The guttural sound from his voice caused Kurt's crotch to spark. He couldn't stop himself from squeezing his legs together around Blaine's thigh. Fire roared behind the other's eyes. Blaine lowered his lips to Kurt's ear. 'I'm all danced out. I'm taking you home.'

The excitement which jolted through Kurt at the statement alone elicited his coy reply. 'Well, maybe I'm not finished dancing?' He smiled smugly up at Blaine, a playful mocking of someone still holding onto his cards after another has just exposed all of theirs.

Blaine smirked in return, glancing down at Kurt's still-grinding lower half before forcing Kurt back into the beam again. His eyes flashed dangerously. 'I wasn't asking. I was telling you: I'm taking you home right now. You want to keep dancing? You can dance on my cock all night.'

The same statement which would have normally had Kurt turning his nose up at its disgusting and over-powering sentiment, or turned him off due to its sounding like a line from one of their cliched porn movies, had him instead biting his lip at the promise. Arousal was like flames in his stomach. His hands gripped Blaine's toned arms and Blaine once again coaxed another kiss out of him.

'Now get your ass up those stairs before I fuck you against the bar.' Kurt did not need to be told twice.

* * *

Blaine had barely left the town's streets and got them back onto the darkened hillside before he was forced to pull their car over. Kurt's incessant kissing and wandering hands from the passenger seat were rewarded by the other's rough jerk of the hand break and yank the smaller male across the car onto Blaine's straining lap. For several minutes, their mouths did not part from each other and deep, sharp intakes of breath acted as the music replacement for the club scene they had left behind.

Blaine had wrestled Kurt's sweater off in an instant, giving the slightly younger man immediate relief as the night air cooled his flaming hot skin that was attacked by Blaine's greedy mouth. Hands pressed against the roof, hips rose and rolled in eager attempts for contact, but the car seat did not permit for constant crotch-on-crotch contact. Kurt soon found his own cock aching, barely able to graze against Blaine's stomach. Still, the tongue lapping at his throat was enough of a distraction for now. The same could not be said for Blaine.

'Fuck this _fucking_ car!' Blaine suddenly snapped, sweat drops appearing on his temples from the futile effort to jerk his hips up to meet Kurt's. Even in the darkness, Kurt could see the obviously painful swelling of Blaine's dick in his own pants. Blaine winced in want, looking to be between orgasming and crying at the lack of release. 'If we were in my Cadillac, this would _not_ be a problem!'

Kurt chuckled, enjoying the fact Blaine was not able to hide his desperation as well as he was. 'Your Cadillac,' He teased, 'Is a piece of over-priced, over-compensating piece junk.'

 _Smack!_

Kurt jumped; Blaine's hand connecting with his rear cracked like a whip and a half-pained, half-shocked gasp was forced from him. Blaine's eyes flashed. 'Watch your mouth, this is off-contract hours; I can hurt you all I want.'

Kurt leaned down and took Blaine's lip between his teeth. A deep groan and another attempt at grinding was the reaction. 'Smacking me won't get you what you want.'

'You're right.' Blaine admitted bitterly. With great reluctance, he lifted Kurt back to the passenger seat and fired up the car again. 'But it will when I get you home. Keep your hands to yourself for the next fifteen minutes, unless you want to be screwed over the hood of a dying Dodge from last century.'

Kurt grinned, tucking his feet up and leaning against his door in order to watch Blaine's sexually frustrated form jerk the car back onto the road. 'Only bad drivers let their cars die-'

' _Not_ another word, Kurt, I swear to God!'

Kurt could only hold back some laughter in his tipsy state. The drive back home was completed in under ten minutes due to Blaine's erratic and downright dangerous driving - for a moment, Kurt believed they would crash into the side of the villa from the way Blaine flew them past the open gates. For some reason, that thought merely made him snigger when they screeched to an otherwise safe halt. Kurt jumped from the car, and raced to unlock the front door. Blaine grabbed at his waist before he could enter, however, and pinned him against the oak frame. Kurt resisted, pushing him away. 'Inside – not here!'

Blaine stepped back, using a lot of self-restraint to do so. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you? Just tormenting me, even after the drive back and dancing like that in the club-'

'Believe it or not,' Kurt rolled his eyes with a smile, 'My goal in life isn't to make you miserable.'

'Then I recommend you make it your goal. You're doing a damn good job of it so far.'

Kurt laughed, and eventually Blaine did too as they tumbled into the darkened entrance way when Kurt finally managed to work the pesky lock. Blaine kicked the door shut behind them, Kurt barely had time to turn on a light before Blaine's lips found his again. They kissed as they blindly stumbled into the living room, tripping over the step down towards the fireplace area. Kurt found himself landing on the plush white rug, suddenly feeling put off. 'Ew… How many times has this been used in shooting?' He asked, raising his hands away in case any sweat or cum remnants from the feather-like threads passed onto him.

Blaine smirked as he switched on the fireplace and flames erupted from its kindling. 'You know, for a successful porn star, you're a little too squeamish about bodily fluids.' Pulling off his shirt and pants, he rounded Kurt's now-tucked in form and pulled his legs apart, kneeling between the gap. 'But to answer your question – zero times.' A half-offended Kurt looked up at him, confused and partially distracted by the endowment visible through Blaine's black underwear. 'Roger only bought this a few weeks ago online. I convinced him the white would look more classy than the red he was going to order. So relax, princess: we can christen it ourselves.'

Immediately feeling more at ease, Kurt let his fingers spay out on the soft rug and focused on giving Blaine his perfected eye roll. 'You need to work on your foreplay skills. What makes you think I'll want to christen anything with you after your tired, over-used 'princess' comment?' Of course, this was a bluff: the firelight on Blaine's bare chest and the shadows cast on the stomach's lines which pointed down into his underwear was enough foreplay for anyone.

The smirk never shifted from Blaine's face. 'Because I know you love it.' He crawled closer and began to unbuckle Kurt's pants.

'Okay, let's just clear up that misunderstanding now,' Kurt tried to say with authority, but his eyes were focusing on the confident hands as they tore his pants from his waist. 'I don't-' Blaine lowered his head and pressed his lips gently on his now-exposed hipbone. 'I don't like be-being c-' A dark pink tongue slipped out and licked slowly as those hands pulled his waistband further and further down until the base of his dick could be seen. 'C-called a prin-ince – _Oh!_ '

Kurt couldn't stop from jerking up to meet Blaine's awaiting mouth when the other's tongue pressed down on him. Blaine swiftly used this to his advantage, pulling the pants down and ducking under Kurt's legs, leaving the other male struggling with the clothes tangled at his ankles. Blaine then pushed Kurt onto his back with two fingers on his chest, stretching out over him so he could gaze down into those wide blue eyes, noses inches apart. 'I can call you whatever I want,' Blaine replied coolly, 'But for the sake of tonight, I'll play nice.' He lowered his brief-clad crotch onto Kurt's nakedness and they both moaned at the contact they had been desperate for since leaving the bar. Kurt ignored the power-trip his somewhat-rival was displaying; the warmth from the fire, along with the wonderful feeling of the rug beneath him and Blaine's sex bearing down on his from above – he couldn't find the motivation in order to argue. Their lips connected once more, their kissing sloppy in comparison to before but no less tantalising with their tongues practically tasting each other's desire.

Blaine's hand drifted downwards to palm Kurt's member against his own. Kurt whined. Fingers ran up from collar bone into the jet blackness, gripping and stroking Blaine's hair as if encouraging him to never stop. But eventually Blaine did stop in order to stand over him. Kurt leaned up on his elbows, his bruised lips, plump and wet, turning into an impatient pout. He took a breath to voice his disapproval of this break in contact, but he forgot all about it when Blaine peeled off his briefs and tossed them aside.

Kurt had seen Blaine – and countless other drool-worthy actors – naked many times, and had perfected the 'hungry' stare which fooled the viewers into thinking his desire for the in-shot cock was authentic. In reality, nothing was authentic. There was little to no enjoyment in having to fake your way through a staged sexual encounter – especially with an audience in the room and un-recorded minutes of prep work. Kurt realised in that moment of seeing Blaine unsheathed that it had been a very long time since he had felt true excitement for what the thick, upright member promised him. He had never felt that way on set, and the last time he had been intimate with someone else was around the time… Kurt suddenly felt nervous.

Without a word, Blaine motioned with one finger for Kurt to sit up. Kurt did so, and Blaine's cupping hand guided his head between his legs. Kurt's eyes drifted shut and he lightly skimmed the dick's length with a loose fist. He licked the base of the member and felt an encouraging grip on his hair. His tongue ran up to the tip, down again and then back up once more before he took it into his mouth. He could taste Blaine's excitement melting down his throat as he sucked gently. A groan from above instructed him further: he flicked his tongue across the head and began to go down on him harder. His hands found the back of Blaine's legs: the other man was tensed up badly, and it was no surprise when he suddenly pushed Kurt off. 'No more,' Came the only words Blaine could say in that strained moment. Kurt understood why and, in response, turned away to get on all-fours. He looked over his shoulder to see Blaine kneeling behind him. The other man's face was flushed, his mouth panting slightly as he was no doubt trying to urge away the orgasm Kurt had almost caused. Unfortunately, seeing Kurt in his position wasn't doing much for settling his loins. He turned away and fished out a condom from his pants pocket and was extremely careful in putting it on.

Kurt braced himself when Blaine finally felt ready to enter. He gasped in pain, an all-too-familiar feeling of ill-preparation when only Blaine's spit was used for lubrication. To his credit, the other man went slow. He rubbed circles on Kurt's back and rear as a show of consolation. Oddly, it did help. That, and Blaine's free hand had found Kurt's own member. The brown-haired beauty mewed in delight, and the accompanying hurt diminished almost completely.

The fire flickered; a fan issuing its approval for the scene it illuminated. Blaine drew back and slid into Kurt's body again, slow and as tender as he apparently could manage until he could be certain the moans he was eliciting from the other were in his favour. Then, he picked up the pace. The body around his cock rolled back into him, hitting his hips and taking his full form with little resistance. Hearts pounding and sweat dripping down their frames, the two young men were lost in the moment. Kurt's eyes had fallen shut again, his head going back and forth from lopping downwards between the two arms holding him up and then up when the waves of pleasure got to be too much. Behind him, Blaine watched a bead of sweat tantalisingly run down the dip of Kurt's spine, pausing at the small of his back. Even as Blaine thrust forward, the bead seemed to taunt him being part of Kurt's enviable body. Blaine leaned down and licked it away, dragging his tongue back up the trail it left until his head was buried in Kurt's thick, soft hair. Blaine's front pressed tight against Kurt's back, they both felt their whole bodies merging together into one wonderful powerhouse of pure pleasure. The heat was rising even further, and they knew what that meant.

'Kurt…' Blaine growled with a shameful tone. 'I'm not going to last long. God, I've been on the edge since the dance floor!'

Kurt's only response was a long _'Mmm!'_ , followed by one stretching arm reaching back to urge Blaine's panting lips onto his own again. Seemingly taking that as permission to do as he wanted, Blaine gripped onto the smaller male's hips and no longer dealt his blows with tenderness: he thrust in hard, fast, and without warning. Kurt cried out and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor face-first into the rug. Blaine didn't give him an opportunity to get back up: having Kurt pinned to the floor meant there was no rocking motion, and no where for his body to be pushed away to. His hand tugged on Kurt's member– an apology for whatever pain he was currently causing with his own merciless treatment and loss of control – and he was lost in a wonderful bliss as he pummeled the man beneath him.

The room spun around. Kurt could no longer tell what was pain or pleasure: he spilled out under the commanding grip of Blaine's hand, dripping onto the luxurious rug which cradled his frame. Euphoria lasted longer than Kurt had ever experienced. The hot, blistering goodness which ran the length of his body was like an all-encompassing shock Blaine had made him devour. When he came to, he realised they had both collapsed in a messy heap, both lying on their backs and their limbs entangled.

Stars floated from left to right in Kurt's vision. Every inch of him felt wet and dirty, but for once it did not feel disgusting. No, it felt like an accomplishment. A successful journey. A mountain climbed. Kurt blinked, dazed. It felt like every inch of his body was in its own heaven, and vibrated in the otherwise still room. He shut his eyes.

Beside him, Blaine eventually sat up and looked down at him. He smirked when he realised Kurt had not yet recovered. He leaned over him and lazily pushed hair away from Kurt's face, his naked body sliding easily over his and his leg pressing once again between Kurt's legs. Kurt cried out as he was sent into another blackhole of sensations. Laughter filled his ears. 'If only all those Jude Asher fans could see you now. They'd all burst in a shower of tears and cum.' Lips were on his, swallowing down every gasp and whimper.

 _This isn't fair – why is he so okay and I'm… Shit, what is going_ on _with me?!_

For an ugly, fearful moment, Kurt thought Blaine was going to use his vulnerability to mock. However, he felt the other's arms wrap around him and pull him in close against his chest. Blaine rolled onto his back and pulled Kurt on top, holding him securely and humming softly in his ear. Power soon returned to Kurt's nerves and muscles, and he found himself nestling into the nurture.

'Welcome back.' Blaine chuckled, feeling Kurt relax in his arms. 'How long til you'll be ready?'

Kurt hummed in content. 'Hmm? Ready for what?' He mumbled.

'Round two.' A few seconds passed, then Kurt's eyes widened. He lifted his head to stare at Blaine incredulously. Blaine met his stare, and then grinned. 'What? You didn't think once would be enough, did you? Boy, you seriously underestimate how much your sexy dancing can turn a man on.'

Kurt blushed. 'I underestimated your sex drive more than my…' He looked away, 'Blaine, I don't think I can-'

'Ah,' Blaine placed his hand over Kurt's mouth and shook his head. 'That's the soberness seeping in. Wait here. I'll get you some liquid courage.'

He stood up, stretched, and it was then Kurt saw Blaine's cock was once again ready for action. Kurt gawked. 'How sexually repressed _are_ you?' Blaine looked down and smiled at his own situation. 'It's only been a matter of days since you last could have – are you seriously hard again literally minutes after?'

Blaine laughed and took Kurt's chin in his fingers. 'Sweet princess, it's been an hour. You passed out. Talk about being sexually repressed – you literally lost consciousness.' Kurt now paled. Blaine stroked his lip with his thumb and smirked. 'You need this even more than I do. Think of the next few hours as therapy. Some good, old fashioned, screaming-my-name therapy to get your black-outs under control.'

With that, Blaine left for the kitchen to bring back copious amounts of alcohol and water - they would need to stay well-hydrated, after all. Kurt was left sitting on the now-christened rug. Thoughts soared and whizzed through his mind too fast for him to grasp hold of a single one. Unsure how he should be feeling, he dazed up as his partner returned. He grew paler as a box was tossed into his hands. A full pack of condoms.

'You can't be serious.'

* * *

A.N. Hope you enjoyed this update - Chapter 4 preview: A strange morning of admissions, Roger briefly returns to give back a freedom, and Blaine begins to discover something about Kurt that he's has been hiding for a long time. We're getting serious, guys… Please be kind and leave a review!


	4. A Little Honesty is Overdue

A.N. I was trying to make this a weekly update kind of thing, but then I go and get busy with work and decide to give you 2 chapters in 1 – I hope you like it! This chapter eventually becomes quite dialogue-heavy, apologies for that, and I'm not sure if I've painted the yo-yo effect of Kurt and Blaine's relationship well (I admit it is haphazardly handled in this update) but I've been basing it off of a baffling friendship I have in my life in which I have no clue if we're close or enemies. I feel you, Kurt…

One reviewer asked about the length of this story: I have a written plan that I'm sort-of sticking to (though half the contents of this chapter was supposed to be chapter 5 so it's moveable) and currently I have this concluding in chapter 7 or 8. So this is the mid-way point. That makes me sad, as I really loved writing them as little immature rivals, but I'm excited for the second half as well when the relationship builds and is tested.

In order to relieve myself of any timing commitments, I will say that this is probably my last post of 2017. If so, then I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and I will meet you all again in 2018 – and if I manage to write more then it'll be a Christmas miracle!

* * *

 **A Little Honesty is Overdue**

* * *

 _Ah, my head…_

 _No, don't move._

 _Kurt… I think your cheek is glued to your elbow._

Wincing, and being very careful to move with the utmost tenderness, Kurt peeled his face away from his arm. He tried to wriggle his fingers, but his arm had gone to sleep, no doubt a result of having the weight of his head cutting off some of his blood supply. Speaking of his head-

'Ow,' Kurt whined quietly. His skull seemed to have shrunk as his brain swelled – it hurt like hell with each dizzying pound. Every inch of him felt uneasy as he gradually turned onto his back and hesitantly opened his eyes. Above him, the soaring ceilings of the living room caused his depth perception to seem off. The light fixture moved closer then farther away before finally settling in place. His fingers timidly tapped on the floor beneath him and he recalled the stunning rug he had admired the night before.

' _We can christen it ourselves.'_

Biting his lip, Kurt turned his head to the side. Beside him, a stark naked, dark haired beauty slept on. If over a thousand worrying thoughts hadn't immediately burst through the aching shell of Kurt's mind, he might have found some satisfaction in the way the normally poised and photogenic Blaine looked less than camera ready, with his nose squished upwards against the cushion he was clutching and the slight hint of drool at the corner of his mouth. Kurt allowed himself a minute to stare in wonder at his rival, questioning if he could still be given such a title now or if things were somehow different. Then, he summoned all his energy and sat up.

His foot nudged something cool which resulted in a clinking sound. Kurt took a regretful glance around: the dipped area by the fireplace – where he and his sleeping companion were currently residing – was littered with copious amounts of alcohol. Kurt's stomach flipped as if to remind him that, yes, he should be held partially responsible for the emptiness of these bottles abandoned so precariously around them. He couldn't deny it: his body was paying the price this morning. The most pressing issue was the full bladder which he now realised was behind his self-awakening. Gingerly, he stood up and made for the bathroom.

A few seconds later, he hobbled back – bladder still not relieved – to toss a blanket over Blaine's bare form. The sleeping actor barely reacted, choosing to snooze on and allow Kurt the opportunity to leave once more for the bathroom.

* * *

Toothbrush in his mouth and hands lathered up with soap, a showering Kurt paused in mid-wash. He had been so relieved when details of the previous night appeared to be lost in a swirly haze, but the longer he stood in the steamed-up enclosure, the more recollections returned to the forefront of his memory.

Cringing, he wished the reminders away. _God, I acted like a fool. A drunken idiot who should have known better. I let Blaine Anderson seduce me. Or…wait, did I seduce him? No. Maybe. Dammit! Neither possibility makes any sense!_

Rinsing off all the soapy suds, he hoped to be washing away some of the embarrassment and shame he had brought upon himself. But what about Blaine? Was the man sitting downstairs with his head in his hands, ruing the day he drank so much he 'lowered' himself to sleeping with Kurt Hummel without getting paid for it? Kurt could hear the accusations now.

' _You took advantage of me!'_

' _I must have just felt so sorry for you, I stupidly threw you a bone in the form of my dick.'_

' _It never happened. And if you tell anyone it did, I will end you.'_

Turning off the water, Kurt breathed in deeply. Whatever the hurtful response, he trusted he had experienced worse insults before now. He dried and dressed himself, then stepped downstairs to face the music.

To his surprise, the music he ended up facing was the upbeat tunes playing on the kitchen radio. A still-naked Blaine stood over the stove, poking at scrambled eggs with a fork. In a separate pan, sausages were sizzling nicely between a few slices of tomatoes and a handful of mushrooms. 'A fry up?' Kurt asked, shocked.

Blaine looked over his shoulder at him briefly before turning back to the food. 'It's a scientific fact that a fried breakfast can cure the worst of hangovers.' He replied lightly.

Kurt eyed how close the quietly spitting oil from the pan leapt up so very near Blaine's skin. He took a seat by the breakfast bar. 'I wonder if your headache is as bad as mine.'

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. 'Safe answer: no. I feel fine.'

Confused, Kurt glanced to the food. 'So why are you making-'

Blaine turned to slide a plate across the bar to rest perfectly in front of Kurt. 'Call it an educated guess that you'd need some good, old-fashioned grease inside you to help with the morning after pain.' He grinned, amused at the way one of Kurt's eyes had yet to open fully due to the thumping above his right temple.

Now the younger male was perplexed. He touched the plate in wonder. 'Wait, you're making breakfast for me?' He eyed the food suspiciously. Was Blaine planning to poison Kurt to stop him from spreading gossip of their goings-on by the fire? 'Don't, uh, don't you want some too? It's not like I'm the only one who got drunk.'

Blaine scrunched his nose and his eyes flitted from side to side as he turned off the stove and brought the pan of scrambled eggs over to Kurt's plate. 'Well…yeah, you were.'

Kurt snorted. 'Don't shrug it off,' he accused, 'you were drinking last night too.'

Blaine scraped off the eggs and returned for the second pan. 'Sure, it's a hobby of mine,' he laughed, arching his brows whilst gesturing to Kurt. 'Not one of yours. Not all of us have a zero tolerance for alcohol, princess. I had a couple of beers at the bar. What did you have – four?' Kurt felt judged, and crossed his arms in defense. 'Enough to get you loose, that's for sure. By the time we got back and helped ourselves to more, I was back to stone-cold sober. You? Well,' He grinned, eyeing Kurt's retracted frame with amusement. 'You were hangover-bound anyway; I didn't see the harm in filling your cup again. And again. I bet that's why you passed out.'

'I passed out because I was tired after a long day,' Kurt shot back quickly, as if to excuse his actions, 'Remember - I fixed the car? And then the dancing happened. And mentally I was exhausted, so really it wasn't so much passing out, more of a sporadic…sleep…thing.'

Blaine smirked. 'Trying to make excuses? That's fine. I don't care enough, Kurt.' He produced a fork and held it in front of the other man's face, dangling it by his nose. 'But I will say this about last night: you're a pretty impressive lay for someone who is so laughable in porn.'

With that, Blaine sniggered.

Feeling attacked and insulted, Kurt glowered at that remark. It was his own fault for sparing a second to believe that Blaine might have actually softened on his insults. Maybe to Blaine, the back-handed compliment was humorous or in some ridiculous way flattering, but Kurt felt nothing but a familiar sting which often resulted from Blaine's mockery. Batting the fork away, Kurt stood up and stalked out of the kitchen.

'An impressive lay – what every self-respecting human being wants to hear. Glad you enjoyed it. You can screw yourself next time.'

A few moments later, Blaine heard an upstairs bedroom door slam. 'What the fuck…?' he murmured, confusion etched across his face. Frowning, he picked up the plate of food and left out the other door to ensure his cooking efforts would not go to waste. He had no idea what he had done, and he wasn't going to apologise for Kurt's dramatic mood swings.

* * *

The rest of day six of their villa stay was largely uneventful. After sulking in his room for a few hours, Kurt finally ventured downstairs to eat and resume his occupation of the reading nook. Blaine was back to sunbathing under a gloriously beautiful sky, his music blaring louder than usual – much to Kurt's irritation. At dinner time, they had passed one another in the hallway without a word as they went separate ways with their meals to eat alone.

By evening, Blaine had taken up residence in the living room with his beloved piano. Judging from the repeated unfamiliar melodies and constant stopping to jot down information on paper, Blaine was writing his own song. That fact alone both impressed and angered Kurt. _Does he have to be good at everything?_ The only excitement came from the knowledge that Roger was due to drop in with food supplies the following day. Kurt held onto the hope that simply seeing that his actors had not yet killed on another would be enough to satisfy the director's twisted mind which forced them together in the first place.

There was, of course, the question of whether Kurt was going to let slip that Blaine had tinkered with Roger's car without any training. Kurt would likely be let off the hook for 'fixing' whatever Blaine did to the old Dodge, trusted to have been tricked by Blaine's manipulating ways, especially when he himself had not been behind the wheel at any point. _Unless you count the couple of minutes last night when Blaine pulled you onto his lap and-_

Kurt shook his head.

He didn't want to dwell on past mistakes.

* * *

Their visitor arrived shortly after noon, and judging from the relief on his face, Kurt was correct: he was very satisfied to see both Kurt and Blaine in one piece with no obvious signs of injury.

'Hey guys – aren't you a sight for sore eyes!' Roger smiled as he carried bags worth of groceries through the front door. Kurt had been standing at the threshold to welcome him, whilst Blaine hung back on the stairs trying to look casual. Kurt glanced up at him and knew the truth about the car – and Kurt's likely release from blame – had been playing on Blaine's mind too. There was some satisfaction in that knowledge.

'Are those sore eyes soon going to be telling us we can go home?' Kurt asked hopefully.

Roger chuckled and headed to the kitchen, inspecting his holiday home for damage from some altercation he had to presume had happened between his actors. 'Deal's a deal, Kurt. Two weeks. You're halfway there, and it couldn't have been that bad. How have things been?'

'Fine.'

'A fucking nightmare.'

Both comments – even Blaine's bitter reply from the hallway – had not surprised Roger at all. In response, he hummed lightly and began putting the food away. 'Good, good – I'm proud of you both for sticking it out-'

'It's not like you gave us much of a choice-'

Roger, once again, ignored Blaine. 'I really think you'll be better at work after this. You don't need to like someone to have a sense of respect for them.' The mocking sound from the hallway caused Kurt and Roger to exchange strained looks. 'So, Kurt, what have you both been up to this past week? Do anything together? Catch me up.'

Kurt almost smirked. He could almost hear the stillness of Blaine in the other room. 'Well, actually…there is something you should know. Try not to get too mad.' Roger's face dripped into defeat, clearly expecting a bombshell eventually. Behind him, and in full view of Kurt, Blaine's anxious eyes peeked from around the kitchen door frame. For someone who had worked so hard on tanning his face, his cheeks looked whiter than normal.

'Alright. Hit me with it,' Roger sighed. 'What happened?'

Kurt bit his lip in a showy display of hesitation. 'The other day, Blaine…' Both Blaine and Roger were staring so intently, Kurt had to steel himself from laughing. '…and I left the villa.'

Roger's eyes widened in surprise as Blaine silently brooded in frustration at Kurt's dragging out of information. 'Really? Where could you have gone? There's nothing for miles!'

Kurt turned away because if he hadn't he might have just laughed in their faces. He injected sorrow into his tone. 'I know. I'm sorry, I know you said you wanted us to stay put, but Blaine didn't give me much of a choice. We went…to the waterfall.'

'What?' Both Blaine and Roger said together.

Kurt nodded dramatically. 'Yeah, there's this beautiful waterfall nearby. We're both sorry, Roger. We shouldn't have left, even if it meant having some fun.'

Blaine could not have looked more confused if he tried, but Kurt was focusing on Roger, who appeared a bit dazed. 'Kurt, the fact you guys went together and had some quality bonding time means more to me than you staying in one place.' He placed what he believed to be a reassuring hand on the 'troubled' Kurt. He smiled. 'Geez, Kurt, there's no need to be worried – I'm fine with it!'

Kurt gave a small smile. 'Really? So, you'd be okay with us going further down the hill together, as long as we do it safely?'

Roger nodded and gave Kurt a one-armed hug. 'Of course, don't worry about it; go exploring all you want. Just leave a note so I'll know where to look for you in case something happens.'

'Like we get lost in the woods or car trouble…?'

'Absolutely - safety first!' Roger waved away Kurt's murmured comments, dismissing them as quickly as Kurt knew he would, before turning back to Blaine. 'Is that why you're acting like an ass – you were worried I'd be mad about a little co-adventuring?' He laughed and clapped a frozen Blaine on the back. 'You had me worried, I was beginning to think you guys hadn't made any progress, but there you are: off finding waterfalls and trekking around the hills.' Looking a great deal more pleased than he did before, Roger sauntered out to the hallway. 'Listen, I gotta run: one of our upcoming shoots has hit a bit of a…snag, and I need to try and save it before it all goes to shit.'

Kurt followed him to the front door, folding his arms and giving a concerned look. 'A snag? What's happened?'

Admittedly, Kurt didn't care that much until worry flashed across the director's face and he hesitated to explain, avoiding Kurt's eyes. 'Let's just say some of the big bosses from the independent sector are making some demands.'

'Bigger than forcing two of their actors together who would rather mud wrestle a bear?' Came Blaine's snarky reply. Apparently, he got over his shock of Kurt's cover up at last, joining them in the hallway. Kurt rolled his eyes, unable to find the normal irritation Blaine's jibes normally triggered. Perhaps it was because there was less bitterness in Blaine's tone as his words might have implied.

Roger offered a strained smile and gave a polite chuckle. 'I'm hoping to fix it early enough to stop it getting out of hand.' He said simply. 'Hopefully you won't need to find out any more.' That had both Kurt and Blaine straighten up in alert. _What did that mean?_ Before they could question further, Roger brightened up. 'Anyway, I think you both deserve a little reward for sticking it out a full week.'

'What kind of reward?'

Roger knelt to the floor by the coat stand, carefully moving the tall object to reveal a small vent an inch from the ground. He tucked his nails behind the grate and gave a few tugs. The vent door popped open. Roger then reached inside and pulled out a small black box with a couple of thick antennae on top. Kurt tilted his head in confusion, but he was the only one oblivious as to what it was.

'You bastard!' Blaine suddenly cried, stepping forward and pointing an accusing finger at the box. 'You complete asshole, I was looking all over for that!' Kurt stared at him in question. 'It's a cell jammer – the thing that stops our phones from getting signal, or devices getting wifi. Roger, you're lucky I'm not shoving that thing down your throat.'

The director laughed as he fiddled with the buttons. 'Yeah, I hoped you'll be too distracted with catching up on all the selfies and pop culture news you've missed out on to punish me. There you go – it's off.'

As if to prove his words, a string of beeps and other noises suddenly rang out from the other side of the house. Blaine leapt like a gazelle from the hallway in a frantic rush to reach his phone, and by extension, the outside world again. In his pocket, Kurt's phone gave a few humble buzzes, then fell silent. He didn't bother checking it, and instead walked Roger out to his car and made him swear to be prompt the following week when they would finally be permitted to go home.

When he returned inside, alone, he felt oddly at peace. He had considered telling Roger about the car and getting Blaine into trouble, but upon seeing the older man, Kurt felt something akin to loyalty to his roommate. Sure, it was fun to drag it out and ensure Blaine understood that he was indeed doing him a favour, but in the end, he figured if anyone was going to try tearing Blaine to pieces, only Kurt deserved full rights to that job.

* * *

The evening had been forecasted as being very quiet and lonely: Kurt was confident that, now Blaine was back in connection with people other than him and had a week's worth of news and gossip to familiarise himself with, he would not see the fellow actor for days. That was why it was all the more surprising when a mere three hours after Roger's departure, Blaine emerged from his hole in the living room and sought out Kurt in the reading nook.

'You want to eat?'

Kurt stared up at him for several seconds before uttering 'Sure.'

The realisation hit Kurt hard once they had finished preparing dinner together and Blaine moved their plates to the dining room table: Blaine wanted to spend time with him. And what was scarier? His cell phone was no where in sight. Kurt questioned if it had been a quiet week or if Blaine had been frustrated by something and had wanted a distraction, but the other actor merely shrugged. 'It's just a phone, Kurt.'

They began eating in silence. At last, Blaine brought up Roger's visit and Kurt's hiding of the car tinkering. 'I don't know whether to thank you or hit you.' He said genuinely. 'But, you realise he is going to find out eventually, right? You basically lied to him and dropped yourself in it. Not a smart move.'

Kurt shook his head and grinned smugly. 'Too smart for you, obviously. Don't you realise what I did?' Blaine's sceptical brow raise told him to explain. 'I got him to verbalise his permission for us to go further. He won't forget that. I also slipped in the car trouble possibility. I've covered your ass for the future – call it repayment for you saving me last night at the bar.'

'Yeah, but we're not supposed to be driving, Kurt. He made that clear at the very start!'

'You underestimate how convincing I am as an actor.' Kurt commented, before freezing and adopting a worried and guilty expression. ' _Roger, what do you mean we weren't allowed to use your car? But you knew we were thinking about driving! We thought you left the car here for us to use. It wasn't too hard to fix, we thought you'd be fine with us taking day trips together. As long as we spend time together – that's what you said, Roger!_ ' A now-tearful Kurt dabbed his eyes with his napkin. _'I am sorry, but we didn't think that far. You know I'd never go against the rules. But you said we could go further, I assumed you meant via a vehicle. I'm sorry, Roger…_ '

With that, Kurt dropped the act and continued eating as if nothing had happened. Blaine stared at him, bewildered. 'You are one manipulating elf.'

Kurt winked.

The conversation dipped in and out of relevant and interesting talking points, mostly centering around their disdain for the following seven days and where they could go nearby to split up the monotony of villa life. However, they both became fully invested when Kurt remembered Roger's discomfort regarding a work issue.

'What do you think its about?' Kurt asked, picking up their empty plates and heading to the kitchen.

Blaine trailed behind him. 'From the look on his face, I thought he was facing getting fired, but he's too talented for the company to fire him.'

'He said it was connected to the bosses in the independent sector. Do you think someone broke contract?'

Blaine considered the possibility. 'No, our agreements don't usually extend to outside work. It could be they're asking too much and making too many demands because they aren't restricted with contracts.'

Kurt hummed. The independent sector was a two-edged sword: on one hand, they tended to have more money for actors and sets, as well as having higher quality writers on tap, but filming sessions were erratic at best and similar to slave-driving at worst. Kurt had only experienced working with such people a few times, as he was contracted be available for such jobs a small percentage of his working year. Blaine's experience was more extensive, participating in independent projects at least once a month. It was seen as a privilege to be requested, but Kurt was happy to bypass the stress and headaches if he could. He was overdue a project, but hoped that if he didn't remind anyone then the contract year would end and he could start afresh with a re-negotiated contract which demanded even less of his time working within the independent sector.

'Do you think they're the ones behind the big push for us to get together on screen again?' Kurt asked, filling up the sink with warm soapy water and slipping in their dishes to soak. The dishwasher was beside him but sometimes he enjoyed the calm task of washing.

Blaine didn't question his actions, instead moving to lean by the counter next to the sink so he could look Kurt in the eye. 'Probably, but I don't think that's what's causing Roger's pity party. Besides,' He paused until Kurt met his gaze, giving a small shrug when he did. 'Would it be so bad to work together now? I wasn't going to say it to Rodge himself, I don't want him thinking his forced vacation was actually a good idea, but I can't say it _hasn't_ helped.'

Kurt tilted his head, thoughtful. 'It's helped.' He admitted. 'Sure, it involved a ton of alcohol and pent up sexual tension from you,' He flicked some bubbles onto Blaine's nose. 'But, no, it wouldn't be so bad to work together now. Providing you stay professional in front of the camera.'

Blaine was frowning, though Kurt could not be sure if it was due to the sexual tension remark, the suds on his nose or the jab at his professionalism. Before responding, Blaine stepped behind Kurt and pressed the front of his body on the other actor's back. Kurt stopped washing as he felt hands slide down his frame. Those hands eventually delved into the water and fingers entwined with Kurt's, making him release the scrubbing brush he had been holding. Kurt didn't push him off, but instead shivered when Blaine's lips broached his ear. 'But when there's no cameras,' Blaine murmured. 'I'm free to be as unprofessional as I want? Is that what you're saying, Kurt?'

But Kurt was not really listening. Blaine was pressing into him gently, his body heat enveloping Kurt in a seductive manner hard to reject. 'Like I said,' Kurt managed to say without moaning as their lower bodies were grinding hard, 'you have a sexual tension problem. But I'm happy to oblige if it'll put you out of your misery.'

'That's…' Blaine kissed Kurt's neck tenderly, 'Very…' His lips moved up to his throat. 'Thoughtful of you.' Now he was kissing on his jaw. Kurt slowly turned his head so he could finally meet the sweet lips sending sparks across his skin. As Blaine's tongue melted against his own, their bodies pushed together. Trapped between the warm and firm chest of Blaine and the immovable sink, Kurt pulled out of the kiss to moan gently in want. Blaine's hands massaged his, squeezing his palms and stroking his fingers. Kurt leaned his head back to rest on Blaine's shoulders, and the older man rocked his hips deliciously into a submitting pose. Slowly, Blaine's hands slipped out slowly from the water. Kurt's eyes closed as he imagined the unbuttoning of pants that was about to occur momentarily…

 _Bop!_

A ticklish presence on his nose caused Kurt's eyes to open quickly. There, sitting on the edge of his nose in a mini-mountain shape, was a dollop of small, soapy bubbles. The hands that put it there dipped down to Kurt's crotch and, with a deliberate slowness, wiped the water off of the skin using Kurt's pants as a towel. One final kiss on his neck was paired with a simple 'Goodnight Kurt.'

And with that, Blaine stepped away from a now very flustered and heated Kurt, turned on his heel and strode out of the room. Kurt was left standing by the sink alone. His only company was a family of dirty dishes, an erection that was not going to subside without assistance, and his own embarrassment at how easily he had been played.

 _Damn bastard._

* * *

 _Hey guys, just wanted to say again after yesterday that I'm really proud of you guys! I don't think it'll be long until your both best buds. - Roger_

Kurt released a sceptical hum as he read the text. _At this rate, I don't know if we'll ever figure out what we are to each other, but it's a nice thought._ He picked up his book again and tried to get back into the story of his most recent novel. However, reality was playing on his mind. The night before, Blaine had indeed made it an early night by retiring to his bedroom right after dinner. Kurt had waited by the piano for a few hours, believing eventually his roommate would return looking to finish what he started. As midnight drew closer, though, he was forced to admit that Blaine was not coming for him. He went to his own bed and lay staring at the ceiling, wondering why he was as irked as he was.

Kurt was not a sex-hungry fiend, nor was he so easily hooked. So why was he disappointed? The question of his attraction to Blaine Anderson was one riddled with 'but's.

Blaine was a handsome guy so, of course, there would be attraction, _but_ Kurt had always found arrogance to be a turn off. Blaine was as arrogant and callous as they came, _but_ Kurt was beginning to seep deeper under the layers of his rival's persona and admittedly liked the company he found sometimes. Blaine's lower layers were more well-rounded and elements of him both impressed and enticed Kurt, _but_ everything was so erratic between them that Kurt was resistant in giving it the credence needed to develop an answer to the already complicated question: was he into Blaine?

Before falling asleep, Kurt had honed in on a main problem: he was both intrigued and exhausted by the yo-yoing condition of their relationship. Turbulent and hostile one second, calm and comforting the next. The uncertainty made him uncomfortable with the thought that he might be developing feelings. The one thing he needed in his life was stability and assurance, and perhaps it was unhealthy to be spending any time – forced or voluntary – with someone like Blaine who could bring him to the brink of extreme emotions without any real effort.

Kurt had thought Blaine a sex-crazed, selfish, thankless, one-dimensional jerk who was void of talent outside of porn. Then the asshole went and showed off his music skills, demonstrated care and protection for Kurt at the bar, then appreciation for his silence over the car scenario, displayed loyalty for a company who clearly didn't deserve him, willingly walked away from a guaranteed fucking session, and overall had a lot more to say than Kurt had given him credit for. All in all, Kurt was not appreciating the character development as if threw him into confusion as to how to act.

Were they friends already? Frenemies? Acquaintances? Co-workers? Rivals? All of the above?

'Hey – princess!'

Kurt rolled his eyes. If the on-going name calling was anything to go by, the status of their relationship was a bit more obvious. He didn't look up from his book as Blaine entered the living room.

'Did you get a text from Roger?' Blaine asked, kneeling on the arm of the couch Kurt was currently laying on.

Kurt hummed as if he was bored. 'The one about him being proud of us? Yeah.'

'Well, I was thinking,' His bright tone should have been Kurt's first warning. 'he's right: we should be proud. We're surviving each other, and this dumb situation.' Kurt couldn't argue with that, so he just kept moving his eyes around the page as if he was lost in his reading. In reality, he was still deciphering the intricacies of this nameless companionship. Blaine threw himself onto the other end of the couch, almost crushing Kurt's feet under him. Kurt frowned and pulled his legs up. 'So, I think we should celebrate.'

'Hmm, right.' Came a perfected disinterested response.

Nevertheless, Blaine went on with excitement. 'I think a party is in order. Roger brought us more beer and drinks, we have a house ripe for entertaining, and the guys will jump at the chance to drive out to see me – I mean, us. No. No, I mean me. Might as well be honest…'

'I don't think it's a good idea to throw a party in someone else's house,' Kurt muttered behind his book. 'Roger will kill you if he finds out.'

'Take it easy, Jiminy Cricket, I'm not talking about a huge thing,' As he rapidly worked through his cell phone, Blaine blindly pushed Kurt's knees so his lower body fell from the couch. The other man grumbled and pulled himself back up. 'I'm just thinking of calling up a few of the guys. Not many. Drink a few beers, laugh and joke around – you know, things you're not very good at.'

The light-hearted jibe meant nothing to Kurt. Knowing there was little to win by arguing, he sighed. 'Whatever, just so long as I'm not the one Roger comes after when his home gets destroyed.'

Blaine began to compile a group text. 'It won't be a crazy night. You know the guys I'm inviting – they're not wild. Nick, Jeff – you like them, right? – Wes, David, Sebastian, maybe new kid Skylar, but definitely not that Chandler guy-'

It had been a long time since Kurt's blood ran as cold as it did in that moment. He dropped the book and it tumbled to the floor. He pulled himself up and grabbed Blaine's phone from his unsuspecting grip.

'Hey!' Blaine snapped, his annoyed and confused gaze following his precious phone as he made to take it back. Kurt turned and moved away so he could have time to delete the message that was practically ready to send. 'Shit, Kurt, stop being an asshole – give it back!'

'Not him.'

'What – Who?' Blaine demanded. He was now frozen in place, shocked that Kurt would be so brazen.

Kurt looked back to him, his wide eyes staring unflinchingly across the room. 'Not. Sebastian.' He stated. _I think I might throw up._

Blaine's eyebrows lowered, and he squinted as if scrutinising the odd statement. 'Sebastian? Why? He's hilarious! How could you have a problem with him?' There were a few moments of pause in which Kurt could have responded but Blaine didn't dwell on why the other actor was silent. 'What – did he call you a name or something? Geez, Kurt, I call you worse than he would. Maybe it's time to stop being so goddamn sensitive about everyth-'

'If you invite him, I'm calling Roger and shutting the whole idea down.' Kurt snapped, his voice barely resisting the quivering in his throat. 'I don't want him here.'

Blaine shook his head, incredulous. 'You're really pulling the 'I'll tell on you' card over this? I can't invite the other guys and not him – he'll think I've got a problem!'

Kurt swallowed hard. 'I already have to suffer you, I'm not suffering him too. If you invite him - If he turns up here, I'll have Roger here in minutes and I'll be leaving.'

Blaine still seemed unable to fathom why this became a big deal. Frustrated, he stormed up to Kurt and snatched back his phone, jamming it back into his pocket. 'You know, _Kurt_ ,' He growled, 'I shouldn't be surprised. You've never _not_ been the high-strung, pretentious, insult to the industry fairy that everyone knows you are. You don't want a party because you're never invited to any. You know why? Because no one wants you to turn up! No one likes you, only some feel sorry for you because you're such a pitiful loser. You need to get over yourself: you aren't some kind of wallflower. You could have used tonight as a shot to try again but you're so fucking difficult-!'

Kurt's red eyes and quivering bottom lip could no longer hold back the crying which Blaine's venomous words had caused. Ducking his head so Blaine would not see the tears splashing down his face, he side-stepped the other male and quickly exited the living room via the patio door and made for the small, cramped pool house with the lockable door.

* * *

The late afternoon air had a welcomed breeze to cool the sun's smothering heat residue. A stray mist of a cloud was the only spoil of an otherwise perfectly clear sky. Kurt watched it drift, lost, across the vast expanse above him. He lay on his back on the stone overlay surrounding the swimming pool, his legs hanging over the pool's edge so that he was submerged in water from the knees down. Slowly, his feet drew circles within the electric blue depths.

It had been a couple of hours since the tongue lashing inside. Kurt had been nervous to venture out of the pool house with his eyes still red, but he had retreated long enough. The time spent just thinking as he stared up at the sky was just what he needed to calm his emotions and his clear his thoughts.

 _You didn't overreact. I know that's what it seems like, but you know there was no getting around it. And as for what he said… Well, it's not like you didn't already know. The truth hurts, but you also know that other things can hurt more. And… At least you now know where you stand with Blaine. He made it very clear._

The still water shifted slightly, barely enough for Kurt's secondary thoughts to notice it, and a trickle from the side drain was nothing out of the ordinary. However, when the shift formed into a small wave which hit against Kurt's kneecaps, he knew he was not alone. He did not move. He listened to the gentle sounds of Blaine wading out towards him. A week ago, he would have instinctively pushed his legs together, if not immediately jumping from the area for fear of being yanked in with his clothes on, but today he remained on his back, arms to his sides, eyes staring up at the sky. Somehow, he knew there was no risk of 'attack'.

He was right.

Hands lightly greeted him, running down the arch of his feet and curving up towards his calves. Kurt's fingers gripped the pool's edge. Blaine's hands smoothed up, softly pushing apart Kurt's legs so he had room to slip between them. Kurt felt wet hair tickle his skin, lips grazing his inner thigh. He shivered and began to pull away. At once, Blaine's hands found Kurt's wrists and urged him to stay where he was. Kurt made a weak show of pulling back nevertheless, but in all honesty, he couldn't find the energy or the will to exit the scene. He was calm, but emotions seemed to rise in his chest.

'I didn't invite anyone over.'

The simple statement allowed Kurt's body to relax all at once, and he realised he had been tensing every one of his muscles for a long time. He didn't respond. Blaine gave him more time, apparently considering silence as a bad sign until he realised Kurt was not moving away from his touch. Lips soon returned to his leg and began to kiss up until halted by a pair of shorts. A rush of water; Blaine pulled himself up, holding onto Kurt's calves as he stretched. The waistband of Kurt's shorts was pulled downwards and the warmth of Blaine's mouth on Kurt's member caused the younger male to sigh and close his eyes.

In one of their many on-set insult swaps, Kurt had criticised his co-star for his distaste of performing oral sex. In Kurt's eyes, Blaine appeared to find the act annoying at best, an insult to his position in the scene at worst, and would try to rush through any part of the script which called for it. After calling him hypocritical for expecting it to be performed on him and yet resisting 'dishing it out' himself, Kurt had told Blaine his techniques were laughable and in no way a help to the fellow actor who would have to feign pleasure. It wasn't as if Kurt would have said all of this without Blaine's initial antagonising critiques, but he had known it was a sore spot for the actor's pride. Kurt was well and truly eating his words now as Blaine's expert tongue pushed against the underside of his cock and his mouth slowly took in his entire length. Kurt bit his lip to keep from moaning louder than the small _'Ah!'_ which escaped. As Blaine's hands rubbed warm circles on Kurt's thighs, his mouth twisted up and down. Kurt's hips bucked upwards, which awarded him the most teasing of tongue flicks against his sensitive tip. Ripples of pleasure ran through Kurt's body; he arched his back, reveling in the fact that the firm ground he was lying on seemed to push him back. His muscles strained wonderfully. A stray tear rolled from one eye. It was difficult to comprehend how Blaine's gentleness and generous giving of physical goodness was the unexpected show of comfort Kurt needed. With every rub on his skin and each slow suck, Blaine ensured no part of Kurt was left forgotten. When the familiar rise of heat met with the cascading crescendo of pleasure, Kurt whispered the smallest of warnings of what was coming - him. Blaine made a sound of understanding but those lips remained locked and busy at work. Kurt's eyes scrunched shut so tightly he saw stars as the moment hit. He could hear his own voice in a flood of nonsensical words of gratitude and euphoria, but he ignored it in order to focus on the magical, all-encompassing sensations that rocked up and down his body like the rough crashing of ocean waves. His legs fell limp as his arched back soon settled onto the ground again. For someone who had done nothing, he felt very dizzy, tired and out of breath. His eyes remained closed but he could hear the watery sounds of Blaine pulling himself up to lay beside him. A soaking arm pressed against his. Kurt stole a glance to his side: Blaine was now laying on his back as well, staring up at the sky.

'I'm sorry.'

If Blaine's previous comforting statement about not inviting anyone to the villa had caught Kurt off-guard, that was nothing compared to the simple two words he had just uttered now. Blaine Anderson did not apologise. At least, not about important things. And certainly not to Kurt. The silent boy replayed the apology in his head, trying to make heads or tails of the tones, inflections, motivation and the possibility of being misheard. When he could not find anything insidious, Kurt chose to remain quiet because he did not know how to reply.

Blaine, however, did not need a reply. 'I got mad. I don't think straight when I'm mad. I wanted to say things that would hurt you. I didn't mean what I said-'

'Yes, you did.' Kurt replied simply. He could feel droplets of water hitting his shoulder as Blaine moved his head to look at him. 'Thank you for…saying what you said. But I know you're right, so you don't need to pretend it's all lies.' He let out a sigh. 'I haven't exactly made it easy for others to get to know me, and I know I can come across snarky. I know no one likes me at _Darcy's_ but it was just tough hearing it out loud.'

'Kurt, no-'

'I mean it. I didn't gel with a single person when I joined the company, and I've missed almost every party and every opportunity to change people's minds. I only have myself to blame for it.'

'Look, just…stop.' Blaine winced, his tone riddled with guilt as pinched the bridge of his nose. 'It wasn't as simple as that, okay? I know. It wasn't… It wasn't you.' Kurt had meant to dispute his interruption, but Blaine's words confused him. He watched the other man get to his feet and offer a hand to help Kurt up. 'Let's go inside. I think we should talk.'

'I thought we already were talking.' Kurt half-joked, eyes still narrowing in concern as he took the hand.

Blaine nodded vaguely, pulling him to his feet. 'We are. But I'm going to need a drink. For an uneventful day at home, I feel drained.'

* * *

The sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon when Kurt finally settled down in his cotton pyjamas with a glass of sweet wine in his hand. Blaine sat on the opposite side of the couch and their legs lay side by side as they faced each other.

'Do you remember your first day at the company?' Blaine asked, still appearing oddly tense as he cupped his own glass with two hands.

Kurt shrugged. 'Sure, it was only a couple of years ago.' He smiled sadly. 'My very first day, and I blew it with every person I met. I don't know what was wrong with me. It was just so…difficult!' He rolled his head to the side and pulled a face. 'No, scratch that. I know why. I have these issues. Trust issues. And you know what makes good friend material? Someone who is playful, laid back, and funny.'

Blaine nudged his foot with his own. 'I've seen you be those things.'

Kurt laughed, though it was certainly not from genuine amusement. If he hadn't cried himself dry hours before, he may have shed a tear. 'When I'm comfortable, sure. But right off the bat?' He shook his head. 'I don't do myself any favours. I'm awkward. That's why I'm so jealous of you.' Blaine's brows lifted in surprise. 'You're so smooth with people. The other guys at work are drawn to you. You're this epicentre of the social scene. And then there's me.' He lay his head on the cushion. 'The one they treat like a leper.'

Had Kurt been looking at the other man, he may have seen the stress form over Blaine's face at the admission. 'Ah, shit, Kurt…' Blaine took a long drink and bit his lip before meeting the other's curious gaze. 'I, uh, I sort of made sure they treated you like that.' His cheeks darkened, and he turned away to look at the rug on the floor. 'I know I have a pretty big influence on the other guys. So, when I knew you were hired I, uh, sort of invited everyone over to my place to…'

Blaine stopped, guilt flooding his skin in a manner so mesmerising that Kurt could not help but stare in confused wonder. 'To what?' Kurt asked without a trace of anger.

'I told a few lies about you.' Blaine confessed. 'Nothing major, just that I thought you were an asshole and your attitude sucked. I managed to convince everyone to give you the coldest welcome, some were even convinced to pick on you. I…I liked the idea. I figured you'd leave pretty quickly if you were treated like the whipping boy. Then they realised you weren't that bad. I don't know if you're aware, but David actually thinks you're adorable.' Kurt leaned back, the confessions feeling like gusts of wind catching him off guard each time. 'And Kevin keeps talking about how hilarious you are when he works with you.'

'Kevin's a nice guy…' Kurt commented with a faraway voice.

Blaine hummed. He then turned back on the couch to look at Kurt. 'Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made everyone believe they had to exile you like that. It was a crappy thing to do. And I'm also sorry for then trying to throw it all back in your face today. That was low, even for me.'

Kurt needed a few moments to take in the information. His memory raced back to the first day of work two years ago, when bosses introduced him to his new co-workers. The way in which their smiling faces dropped to cold frowns and their deliberate act of ignoring his comments or questions all now made a little more sense. He had spent so long attributing the close-knit group's hostility as being a reaction to his own flaws, but it seemed he had less to feel inadequate about. He knew he should resonate anger or sadness at the injustice of it all, as he did lose out on friendships and spent two years beating himself up over the situation, but to his own surprise he smiled. Blaine was just as shocked at the small laugh which left the younger actor. 'Wow…that's… but I guess worst things have happened in the world.' Memories still coming in hard and fast, Kurt tilted his head to the side. 'Alright. I'll accept your apology,' he gave him a pointed stare. ' _if_ you tell me why you hated me so much. Before my first day on set, we had only met once. At that screening phase meeting, remember? We barely said hello that day! Why did you hate me?'

It didn't make sense to him for so much to result from a single meeting. Little did he know that Blaine was just beginning to release the truths. The dark-haired man moaned into his hands as they rubbed frustratingly over his face. 'It was enough.' He mumbled. 'I got nervous. When I started at _Darcy's Secret_ , I toppled the guy who was 'top dog'. Felix Bard. He was the star of the show, then I turned up and took over his rankings in just a few months. Before he left for an office job, he pulled me aside and told me that – just like with him – I would be forced from the top. Ever since then, I wondered who would…' He paused to think of the right words, 'de-throne me.'

' _De-throne you?_ ' Kurt repeated, unsure whether to laugh or just continue to stare in disbelief at what he was hearing.

Blaine looked irked, embarrassed by the weakness he was showing. 'Yes, Kurt, and it was a very real danger – stop laughing! Felix thought he was untouchable until I came along. And then he became a has-been. Thanks to me. I'm not too conceited not to realise that it'll happen to me too.' Kurt raised his hands, hiding his amusement behind his fingers. 'Anyway… No one joined our team that gave me any reason to worry. We have some great quality in _Darcy's_ but I knew my position was safe. Until…' He looked up at Kurt again. 'Until I was asked to meet the new kid with the rest of the production team. They said they had a good feeling about you, even though you didn't have many credits or the level of experience that they normally demanded. I knew you were trouble the moment you walked in.'

Kurt couldn't stop the bark of laughter that came from hearing such a dramatic and stupid sounding story. 'Me?' He pointed at himself. 'Blaine, I came into that meeting like the scared schoolboy I was. Do you really expect me to believe you were intimidated by me at eighteen?'

Immediately, Blaine began to list off from his fingers. 'Young, hot, polite, quietly confident, witty, curious, eager, no arrogance, not fake, ticked so many fetish boxes-' Kurt was dumbfounded and tried to stop Blaine before he embarrassed him any further, but Blaine's purpose was not to flatter him – it was almost accusing. He threw Kurt a pained look. 'Don't you think I knew I was in trouble when I had to admit to myself that even I found you captivating?' Several moments of silence followed as they stared at one another, gazes soft; Blaine searching for graciousness and Kurt searching for a sign that this was, indeed, all true. Finally, Blaine fell back on his cushion and folded his arms, tired. 'I had hoped that by getting the others on board, giving you a hard time, we could chase you off. But you stuck it out, and I guess I started to resent you for it. You could withstand the power I had over the company. Maybe that meant you had more power.' Another pause, and he took a drink to swallow down the shame. 'The first offer from _Waywards_ seemed like an answer to my prayers. I could get out, jump ship before you toppled me. I could leave with some dignity. Instead of a has-been, I could be seen at the guy who traded up for a better position. No one would need to know I left because of you. But I've stayed so far because…I don't know, pride? I didn't want to lose so easily.'

Blaine's shoulders slumped after he downed his drink in one go, and Kurt was torn between staying still and hugging him. It wasn't very clear which Blaine would appreciate more. So, Kurt resigned to stretching his hand out to grip onto Blaine's forearm. The other man did not pull away. Kurt smiled weakly. 'If it makes you feel any better, the reality is that you still hold all the power. And I'm not 'winning' – I'm barely keeping up.' Blaine made a noise which sounded a lot like a small chuckle but his efforts to hide it made it difficult to discern.

Why he wanted to console the man who had just admitted to purposefully trying to ruin Kurt's reputation – something Kurt had always suspected and accused him of but never knew the reality – was anyone's guess, but a safe answer was probably that he did not have it in him to hold a needless grudge. Blaine did seem sorrowful.

 _What was it dad always said? It takes a strong person to ask for forgiveness, and an even stronger person to forgive._

The thought of his father caused a sudden sting, but Kurt made himself move on to focus on the situation at hand. There was no reward for grudges, but there was in making peace. 'I'll get us another drink,' He said, taking their glasses and heading to the kitchen. His footsteps felt lighter, his mood brighter and his outlook, though just as hazy and chaotic as it was earlier, was a little more _optimistic_. He still didn't know where they were or what their relationship was, but it seemed like they were going in the right direction.

Upon his return to Blaine in the living room, he found the other man in deep thought. 'So…' Blaine began, 'while we're on the topic of confessions…you want to explain your reaction about Sebastian?'

Kurt's warm inner glow grew chilly in that instant. He sat down and sipped his drink. 'It's justified.' He said simply, hoping they could shift topics if he could just think of something else to distract Blaine with.

'I'm surprised you even know him, considering you've never worked together.' Blaine's eyes narrowed at his own words and realisation: the fact Kurt and Sebastian had never worked together, despite being public favourites, was odd in on itself. 'Wait – why is that? Why haven't you both worked on set together?'

'That,' Kurt swallowed hard, trying to keep his tone light and disinterested. 'is none of your business. Besides, there's still lots of people I haven't worked with; it's not that big a deal.'

'It doesn't take a genius to know that putting you two together would be almost as popular as putting you and I together,' Blaine shot back, very matter of fact. 'And if you couldn't talk your way out of working with me all those times, then how could you talk your way out of working with him once?'

'Speaking of us working together, I was thinking we could tell Roger-'

Blaine shook his head, wagging his finger. 'Oh no, don't change the subject. I want to know why Roger will force us together for two weeks, but let you and Sebastian off the hook. Do you guys look weird together or something? Why haven't you-?'

'Because I added a contract clause that excuses me from working with him, that's why!' Kurt suddenly snapped back. His sharpness took Blaine by surprise, causing Kurt to feel bad for his outburst. He looked out into the dimmed evening darkness to avoid meeting Blaine's questioning stare. 'We…we knew each other as teens. When I was negotiating my contract, I made them include that stipulation, accepting a pay cut in return, because of our past. That's why, okay? Can we drop the interrogation now?'

Blaine studied him intently, watching the way his anxious hands moved around his wine glass. He also noted that his nerves did not seem to stem from Blaine's line of questioning, but rather some memory which seemed to be replaying in his mind. What could have been so bad that Kurt would take a pay cut to ensure their separation? 'Is he your…ex?' The idea seemed ridiculous, especially considering Blaine's awareness of Sebastian's sexual tastes and Kurt's characteristically uptight manner.

Kurt did not answer right away but finally he shook his head. 'No.'

Across from them, the fire crackled and hissed, but neither of them paid it any attention. A hundred different scenarios regarding Kurt and Sebastian's 'history' played out in Blaine's head, none of which explained away the secretive hatred Kurt had for another actor. 'Wait, Sebastian only joined _Darcy's_ last September, right after you and I had that big fight.' Kurt nodded vaguely. 'It's a little odd that you'd make sure your contract barred contact with Sebastian but not include me in it too. We could have avoided this whole trip.'

With a soft laugh, a sad Kurt turned to offer Blaine a smile. 'I don't think I could have gotten two of those clauses in the one contract,' He said lightly, 'and you, Mr Anderson, are by far the lesser of two evils.'

Their evening eventually rolled on to happier discussions, from their love of music and theatre to Kurt's fascination of the British royal family and Blaine's compulsive need to own bow ties, but Blaine did not lose the astonishment which had hit him when Kurt had uttered that closing statement on the Sebastian conversation. The lesser of two evils… Blaine had been convinced that they had been each other's arch nemeses, which he now admittedly knew was over the top, but now the dynamics had shifted: he was second to none other than one of his close friends. He had treated Kurt like shit for two whole years. _What the fuck did Sebastian do?_

He knew his curiosity would not be satisfied that night, but it would not be easily forgotten. Of course, he did forget all about it when he succeeded in convincing a coy Kurt to join him upstairs. However, after they had finished, and several used and abused condoms had been tossed in the trash, and he felt the slighter male curl up at his side in his bed, Blaine lay awake wondering what new truths lay ahead.

* * *

A.N. For those who want to know of Roger's problem, the clues are all contained in this chapter – you may have already guessed it! Any thoughts? Chapter 5 Preview: Possibly a flashback from a certain interaction Kurt had with Sebastian as teens, and something flourishes as Blaine looks to make things up to Kurt by returning him to his beloved waterfall. We'll go from one extreme to the other in this chapter I think! Happy holidays and please leave a word or two before you leave!


End file.
